Leaning to Fly
by Vek Talis
Summary: Vek Talis and Vizif Krat receive their first mission, which begins as a minor mystery, and ends up taking them across the galaxy.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Learning to Fly

Author: Vek Talis

Length: Multi Chapter

Timeframe: 197 years before KotOR 4153 BBY approx.

Genre: Drama/Mystery

Characters: OC & Master Vandar from KotOR

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars and never will. 

**1**

"Yes," Vizif said happily. "You're doing it; keep it up." 

"That's what I'm trying to do," Vek said, losing his concentration as his master urged him on. It was tiring to move an object – any object – with your mind. At least, until you were used to doing it. 

The free weight dropped to the practice mat with a thud. Vek blinked; he hadn't realized he'd brought it so close.

"That was better, Vek." His master wore a lopsided grin. "Really, I don't know why Master Craroc was so insistent you not get training. It seems to me as though you've made tremendous progress."

It had been three months since Vek came to Dantooine. Three months since he'd discovered the Force was real. In that time, he and Vizif had become close. Not in a romantic way, but she was an amazingly gifted person, not only for being a Jedi.

"Thanks," he said, mind weary enough that he couldn't think of a witty, yet cynical comeback.

"Come on; you've got to keep up your strength." Vizif bounded to her feet as she always did.

Vek, on the other hand, wasn't so quick. He was faster than he was before he came here, of course. He'd regressed about forty years since then. At least he didn't creak like an aged wooden chair when he got up off the floor.

The Force, he learned from Master Craroc, sometimes needed a specific being for certain tasks. If that being wasn't in this galaxy, the Force had a way of finding a suitable sentient.

Frags, that is, people From Another Galaxy, weren't common. In fact, they were quite rare. The trauma caused by dragging someone from one dimension to another was so great, that many Frags lost their minds, either immediately, or over time.

That was what the Jedi said, anyway. They also said the Force sometimes needed a being to fulfill a certain role. To Vek, that meant the Force sometimes needed villains. Creating one, through dragging someone here, seemed like a planned thing, a process, rather than randomness.

The few Frags who hadn't blown a gasket were relegated to the Jedi Archives on Coruscant. There, they lived their extra long lives in quiet meditation and contemplation, rarely setting foot outside. Fear often made otherwise reasonable beings do strange things.

"Why are you picking at your food?" Vizif asked, as they sat in the underground refectory of the Jedi enclave.

"Sorry," Vek said absently. "Was thinking about... stuff."

She reached across the table, touching his hand. "You won't get stuck in the Archives. We've been over this, remember? Master Vandar believes in you. _I_ believe in you."

"Thanks, Master." That title never got old. He was in the _GFFA_ , apprenticed to a Jedi Knight.

The food, on the other hand, seemed older than Vandar. The Jedi didn't believe in eating the flesh of animals. That didn't stop him from craving a juicy, extra-rare cheeseburger.

"Finish up," Vizif said. She stood from the table and put her plate in the recycler. As a Miraluka, she was blind, but could see, even mundane objects, through the Force. She had no trouble navigating the refectory.

"It's time for blade training," she said, the corners of her mouth edging upwards into a smile.

"I haven't even built my first lightsaber, Master," Vek said. He was looking forward to that.

"And you won't today, either, Padawan," Vizif said. "That doesn't mean we can't prepare you for the day."

Beneath the enclave, beneath the underground portion, lay a specially designed training room. Droids floated, rolled and walked around it, always ready to perform.

"Here. A training blade," Vizif said, handing a small hilt to him. "Remember your protective gear."

In a full body suit, he felt awkward, like he was walking in Zero-G, except that he was weighted down by the cumbersome outfit. Frankenstein's Monster popped into his head, but he shook that away. The suit was to protect him from the saber. Wielding light had its dangers: it was weightless, so except for the hilt, it literally felt like nothing, and it could cut off limbs with little to no psi. A simple flick of the wrist could be deadly.

"I feel a lot _less_ safe in this cocoon, Master," he said flatly. "Couldn't I run the gauntlet with a thousand spinning sabers coming at me at once, instead? Seems like it would cause less harm that way."

"Oh, shush," she said and let out a giggle. "Really, Vek, you don't look _overly_ ridiculous."

"Stellar," he said, right before his tongue clacked against the roof of his mouth. The sound echoed in the over-sized helmet he wore.

There was a first time for everything. He walked out into the center of the room. All the droids sensed this. With a remote, Vizif activated one. It hovered toward him.

"Ready?" she asked.

"As I'll ever be," he said and activated the blade. It hummed and vibrated ever so slightly in his hand. He placed his left hand over his right, as she'd showed him.

Immediately, the droid whirred and slid quickly through the air. It shot a practice bolt at him; enough to shock, and nothing more.

"Ah," he said. His blade had moved too far, too fast.

"Concentrate," Vizif said. "Look beyond the droid. Let the Force take control."

Sighing softly, he ignited the blade again. The droid swooshed through the air. It darted here, then there, at last unleashing another bolt. This time, it flew harmlessly away.

"Good," Vizif said. "You're quick; it took me a long time to learn to defend against droids."

Again, the droid whizzed here, then there. It unleashed several bolts in quick succession. Though he couldn't feel the droid, he picked up on its movements and blocked each blast in turn.

"Amazing," Vizif said.

"Not really," Vek said as he switched off the blade, took off the giant helmet. "It's geometry and algebra. Maybe a little calculus thrown in." He leaned in close to whisper, "But I wasn't so good with calculus, so let's just call it geometry and algebra."

She giggled, but then turned serious. "I've set the droid to random, though."

"Yes, Master, but what protocols do droids have to create a random pattern? We go back to geometry, the layout of the room they have to work with, and algebra. Simple math."

From the table which stood against the far wall, Vizif picked up a practice blaster. "I disagree," she said and fired the weapon.

"Ow," Vek yelped and drew back. "You _shot_ me, Master."

Already, she'd rushed to his side. "I'm _sorry_ ; I thought you were going to block it." The blaster she'd used held practice bolts, but a high level, reserved for padawans much farther along in their training. "I'm so sorry," she said, helping him off with the suit.

"It's all right," he said, trying to soothe her. The red mark on his shoulder stung. Carefully, he touched it with his right hand. It was very tender.

"Let's get you to the healer," Vizif said, but he only heard her voice as if muted, for something was happening to him.

Particles of light danced from his fingertips. Soon, the shoulder wound glowed slightly. Pain ebbed and the red, raw spot began to heal.

"Oh, my," Vizif said as she watched. "You are a natural healer, Vek."

"So it would seem," he said. When the pain was gone, he removed his hand. There was no sign of the wound.

"Wonderful," she said and her face lit up. Her features turned sly as she added, "That means I can wound you till my heart's content and Master Craroc will never know."

"You know, Master? I think I'll pass on that."

She snorted laughter. "Sounds good."

When they went back outside, a civilian speeder sat by the entrance walkway. "I wonder who's here?" Vizif asked, then pulled her padawan by the arm. "Let's find out."

They caught up with the woman who was trying to gain access to the enclave. "I _need_ to get in there, you clattering tin can."

"I'm sorry, Misstress Galorn, Master Craroc has specifically instructed this unit not to allow visitors this day," ID-88 said. The lanky, medium sized protocol droid seemed flustered. So did Misstress Galorn.

When ID-88 saw Vizif, it raised a silvery arm. "Over here, please, Knight Krat, _please_."

"Who are _you_?" Misstress Galorn demanded. " _I_ want answers and I want help this _instant_. Are you a Jedi?"

"Please, there's no need for hostilities," Vizif said. "I'm Jedi Knight Krat and this is my padawan, Vek. How may I help you?"

"Well, it's _about_ time." Misstress Galorn set her left hand on her hip and wagged her right forefinger in Vizif's face. "Those kath hounds are invading my farm again. I _demand_ assistance. You Jedi can't hide in that enclave and pretend nothing needs done out here. I should say, you would run out of food quickly if it weren't for we farmers."

"Peace, Misstress Galorn," Vizif said, and for a wonder, the irate woman did ease back a bit. "My padawan and I will go to your farm and see what we can do." She waved her hand, subtly, down at waist height.

"I-" Galorn seemed taken aback. "Well, thank you," she said slowly. Suddenly, she was moving slower, almost like someone had drugged her. "I'll wait here for good news." She wandered toward a bench and sat down.

"You enjoyed that, Master," Vek said as they walked toward the speeders the enclave used.

"I did not," Vizif said.

"What exactly _did_ you do?" He'd felt her use the Force, but he was at a loss as to how.

"A simple trick. No algebra required." Vizif winked.

"You have a way with people, Master," Vek said. "Even before you used the Force, she was responding better to you than I thought she might." His own people skills had always been lacking. And that would do until a bigger understatement came along.

"Thank you," she said. She plopped down into a speeder. When he was in, too, she jammed the accelerator. They took off southeast.

"Misstress Galorn isn't really a farmer," Vizif said as they sped along grassy plains. "She owns several and runs them with an iron fist. The only good thing I can say about her is that she treats her workers better than most. If there's trouble at a farm, she'll help them get things straightened out."

"I'm surprised you didn't get more upset back there," Vek said. He often fed off the emotions of others.

"There is no passion, there is serenity." The way Vizif quoted that part of the Jedi code always sounded sad to Vek. She claimed it was her favorite line, yet a wave of loss and melancholy always passed through her when she said it aloud.

At the nearest Galorn farm, there was indeed trouble with kath hounds. The large canines circled the farmhouse, broken droids crushed under heavy paws.

"Help us, Masters Jedi." A man stood on the roof of the structure. "Them kath hounds is gone kill us, if they can."

Now that they saw a better target, the hounds grouped together in a pack. Vizif ignited her lightsaber.

"Stay behind me, Vek," she commanded.

The Force tugged at Vek's collar. Swirls of light seemed to come from an entrance to the cellar of the farmhouse. They drew Vek toward it, even as Vizif pushed forward to meet the threat.

"Where are you going?" His master got between Vek and the hounds.

"Come here, you big baby," Vek called to the mother hound. It broke off from the pack, while the others kept Vizif at bay.

"Vek, what are you _doing_?" Vizif tried to use the Force to run to his side, but one of the hounds grabbed the edge of her robes in his jaws.

"Peace, Master," Vek said, kneeling to the kath hound. "I know what I'm doing." When the hound growled in his face, slavering like she was ready to bite it off, he glanced toward the cellar entrance. "There, yes?" he said quietly.

Instantly, the hound turned toward the cellar, whimpered. Then, up at the man on the roof, she snarled as though mad.

"I think I see the trouble, Master," Vek said. "This man has captured the mother's young."

"They was in my fields, eating my squash," the man said defensively. "I- I didn't kill them."

"No, and that is what is going to save you," Vek said. "I'm going to release the young and they are all going to leave together." He returned his attention to the mother hound. "Isn't that right?" He gathered the Force around him, as best he could, keeping his eyes glued to the mother hound. _==See, I'm helping; I'm no threat and you're no threat to me==_

She growled, but then her head dipped and she whimpered, averting her eyes from Vek.

"I'll take that as a tacit agreement," he said and opened the cellar door, turning his back on the kath hound. Quickly, padding feet bounded up the steps. Three, no, four young hounds poured from the cellar, leaped on their mother. She rubbed noses with them each in turn.

"They gone eat my squash again," the man on the roof complained.

"Kath hounds don't eat vegetables," Vek said. "They are carnivorous." When it was clear he didn't understand, Vek raised an eyebrow and sighed. "They eat meat. They were probably digging after some burrowing rodent that had been eating your squash; rodents will eat just about anything. They were, in fact, helping you."

"Oh." The man relaxed a bit.

"Um, a little help over _here_ , Padawan," Vizif said. One of the male hounds still had her by the robe.

Vek glared at him and he whimpered as he let go. "Now, all of you, back where you belong. This man won't harm you again. Or else he'll answer to me."

The farmer harrumphed, but the kath hounds slowly wandered away.

"How did you learn to do _that_?" Vizif asked as they sped back toward the enclave. "I've seen Jedi Masters tame beasts with the Force, but you're no master."

"Thanks for reminding me; I'd forgotten," he joked and she laughed. Then he shrugged his shoulders. "I've always been good with animals. People... not so much. You, my Master, are far better with people."

"Well, it seems we compliment each other, at least." Vizif smiled, then chuckled. "Good work, Vek; I'll make sure to tell Master Craroc that you helped."

"Master Craroc. Stellar." Vek wasn't happy with that taciturn fellow. Craroc wanted to boot Vek from Dantooine the moment he laid eyes on the Frag. Even with Master Vandar's blessing. Vek didn't know what the human had against him, but he figured he'd learn sooner or later.


	2. Chapter 2

**2**

"Focus," Vizif said calmly. "Clear your mind of all concern."

"Easy for you to say, Master," Vek said sarcastically. "You weren't the one tossed into another dimension and then brow beaten by a Jedi Master for it."

"Hush," Vizif said sternly. "Master Craroc can't interfere in your training. Be mindful, but also let go of your mind. Allow it to be caught in the currents of the Living Force."

He imagined a flowing creek, then replaced the water with ripples of Force. One by one, he dropped his concerns into it, watched them get farther and farther away. His breathing came easier and he felt lighter.

"Good," his master said. She sat beside him, not only in the real world, in the Jedi enclave on Dantooine, but in his imaginings. "Allow the Force to guide you, and you will be one with it."

He tried. Though he'd symbolically dropped his cares into the meandering currents, it was a different matter to drown himself in it. His thoughts continued to plague him and he became agitated.

"It's all right," Vizif said. "You've done well, Padawan," she added when he opened his eyes. "Tell me what you saw."

As he opened his mouth, he caught a glimpse of something. Square, like a box, it was surrounded in darkness. He saw a logo, too, but it was only the glimmer of a reflection that was gone too fast.

"Whoa," Vizif said and rocked back on her heels. "What happened?"

"I don't know, Master," Vek said. When she seemed like she might faint, he grabbed her arm to help steady her, led her to the bench nearby. The sun shone down warmly, but he could feel goosebumps on her arm.

After taking a few deep breaths, Vizif stopped looking so pale. "Thank you, Vek," she said. And then, "What do you think that was?"

"I'm surprised it hit you as well, Master," Vek said. "I think it was a vision, but I'm not sure of what. All I recall is a black box."

"Black box?" Vizif echoed his words, then shook her head. "No, I think you need to examine your thoughts again."

When he did, he clacked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "The box itself was ordinary," he concluded. "Whatever was inside was... dark. Foreboding."

"I wonder what it means," Vizif said, perhaps to herself.

As they sat beneath the warm sunshine, a ship took off from the spaceport. Vek looked up, noticing a strange symbol on the ship's hull. "Look, Master; it kind of looks like a 'C' in a swirl."

Vizif's laughter was merry, not cruel. "Silly Padawan," she said. "It's just a courier ship. Czerka Corp uses them to drop off supplies."

"Ah," he said, feeling a little foolish.

When they went back inside for midday meal, Master Craroc sat in the underground refectory. "If it isn't Padawan Talis," he said sarcastically. "Sorry we don't have any other padawans around for you to play with."

"Stellar," Vek muttered to himself. To the master, he said, "I'll make do, Master Craroc." It was tough being an old padawan.

When he sat down to eat, Craroc came over to sit beside him. Vizif soon joined them, after she loaded her tray with food.

"So tell me, how go the young one's studies?" Craroc asked Vizif. "Does he get angry? Nonplussed? Violent? Do you find any signs of mental instability?"

Casually, Vizif turned her head to stare at Craroc. Gently, she said, "Not from _him_ , no."

Vek snorted, choked on his water and tried not to laugh.

Craroc scowled, glaring at both of them in turn. "You would do well to remember your place, _Knight_ Krat. I am the Grand Master of this enclave, and I brook no disrespect."

"Of course, Master Craroc," Vizif said, inclining her head to him.

"Master Craroc." ID-88 jostled up. "Oh, Master, how glad I am to see you."

"What is it now?" Craroc's head fell to his hands.

"Some distinguished visitors are here to request help from the Jedi," the droid said. "It seems there is the matter of mercenaries on Dantooine."

"Mercenaries?" Vek perked up at that. "Have they harmed anyone?"

"No, Padawan Talis, not to my knowledge." ID-88 was programmed to regard all Jedi with respect, even padawans.

"Fine, I'll go talk to them," Craroc said and stood.

"Go enjoy being the top kath hound," Vizif said quietly as he walked away. When Craroc shot back a heated glare, she and Vek leaned toward one another, pretended they were whispering among themselves.

"Maybe we should go train somewhere else. Like Coruscant," Vek said when Craroc was gone.

"No," Vizif said. "This place is far more peaceful. Besides, Master Vandar told me to keep you here for a while. I think he smells something brewing through the Force, though I'm at a loss as to what it could be."

"Have you noticed there are fewer and fewer Jedi here lately?" Vek asked. Craroc was right: there were no other padawans on Dantooine at the moment. And no other masters, either, other than Craroc. Vandar had been called away, but was due to return soon.

"Yes, I wonder if they're on missions, or scared away by Darrdan," Vizif said.

* * *

Days passed. Master Craroc left the enclave several times, returning after hours. He seemed preoccupied.

Vandar returned and the two men were heard arguing late one night.

One afternoon, while walking together, Vek watched as a Czerka Corp ship blasted off from the spaceport. The logo on its hull twisted its way into his memories.

"Let's investigate these ruins," Vizif said, pointing to several obelisks. They projected up from the soft ground, aligned in a way that they created a path to a structure covered in sod. "I've been here for over a year and have never had the chance."

"All right, Master." Vek hesitated. _Hopefully, we won't be able to open it_ , he thought as he walked closer to an ancient Rakatan temple. His master wouldn't know who he was talking about, so he kept his mouth shut.

Before they reached the stone door, her comm buzzed. Vek sighed out mounting apprehension, then wondered why he bothered. _It's just going to be something equally as troubling,_ he thought. He was always such an optimist.

"Vizif," his master said, then listened. "On our way, Master Vandar." She clicked off the comm, gazing longingly at the ruin before turning away. "Master Vandar wants us back at the enclave."

"Joy of joys," Vek said.

"Don't be so sarcastic," Vizif admonished.

"Master, the day I'm no longer sarcastic, or cynical, it's time to start digging a hole in the ground," he said.

"A hole?" she queried.

"Because I'll be dead," he said flatly and she snorted laughter.

At the entrance to the enclave, ID-88 clambered toward them. "Oh, Knight Krat, Padawan Talis, Master Vandar requires your presence immediately."

"Where?" Vizif asked.

"In Master Craroc's quarters," the droid said.

Vandar was there, in the underground quarters, but he was alone. "Close that door," Vandar said and Vek did.

As he touched the panel, a flash of memory. He sucked in a shallow breath, turned to face Vandar.

"What is it?" the diminutive master asked. "You have a look about you."

"That vision," Vek said.

"Do you remember something from it?" Vizif asked.

"After the box, yes," Vek said. "What I saw flash through my mind. I think it was the Czerka logo on that ship."

Quickly, Vandar punched a button on the nearby console. "ID-88, come here now." When the droid announced it was on its way, the green fellow hopped up on the desk and looked at Vek. "What about this box?"

"At first I thought it was black," Vek said, glancing toward his master. "But then, we realized what was _in_ it was dark. Maybe of the Dark Side."

"Mmmm." Vandar thought for a few moments. "Did you see this vision, too, Vizif?"

"No, Master, but I shared my padawan's experience with it," Vizif said. "I felt something dark when it happened. A wave seemed to overtake me."

"Mmmm." Vandar's tone was deeper than the first time. He remained silent until the droid entered, his oval eyes fixing on it. "What did the Czerka ship deliver yesterday?"

ID-88 made noises, like it was accessing data. "Confirmed," it said. "On the requested day, the Czerka representative identified as," here its voice changed to something feminine, presumably to the voice of the courier, "," then it resumed its normal voice, "brought one item for Master Darrdan Craroc. It was a small box, contents, unknown."

"You can go," Vandar told the droid. When it was gone, Vandar turned to Vek. "Sense anything in this room?"

Vek closed his eyes. "There's definitely _something_ here," he said. "But I'm having trouble."

He felt Vizif slip her hand into his; she gave it a squeeze. "Relax, Vek. No one's here now, just you and me. Reach out with your feelings."

When his guard went down fully, for only a split second, he felt it. Absently, he raised his right hand, Vizif's own was still clasping his left. An index finger shot forward. When he opened his eyes, Vandar was eyeing a box which sat on an end table.

"This box?" Vandar asked. He touched it, then pulled his three fingered claw hand away. Gingerly, he reached out for it again. This time, he grasped it. "Yes," he said, his bulbous eyes closed. "The Dark Side."

His eyes opened, focused on Vek. "Whatever was in here, was in your vision."

"I don't understand, Master," Vizif said. "Where is Master Craroc; why are we in his private chambers?"

"Master Craroc has disappeared," Vandar said.

Vek raised an eyebrow. "Am I supposed to get all choked up?"

Vandar chuckled softly, but Vizif wasn't amused. "He may be, well, he _is_ a jerk, Vek, but this is serious."

"Sorry," Vek said. "How did you know he was missing, Master Vandar?"

"He left this morning for Damerel," Vandar said. "No one knows what business he had there. He was supposed to have returned by now. I came here to speak with him and sensed something was wrong."

"Why would he go to Damerel?" Vizif asked.

"Someone want to clue the new guy in?" Vek asked. "Where's Damerel?"

"It's the largest settlement on Litooine, Dantooine's smaller moon," Vizif said.

"And where you must go," Vandar said.

"What?" Vek took a step back. "You're sending us after an escaped Master? What if he's just, you know, having a little rendezvous with someone."

Vizif wagged her finger at him. "Jedi Masters _don't_ have rendezvous."

"You might be surprised," Vandar said, then shook himself. "What I mean is, I must remain here and communicate with the Council on Coruscant. They will want to know the situation. I have no other team to send."

"Such an overwhelming vote of confidence," Vek said, raising an eyebrow.

"Hush, Vek," Vizif said. To Vandar, she said, "We'll leave right away."

"Stellar," Vek said.


	3. Chapter 3

**3**

"Have I mentioned how much I enjoy receiving a mission?" Vek asked. A blaster bolt, then another, slammed into the durasteel wall.

"You always take me to the nicest places," he added. For a moment, he glanced around the cover that sheltered him. More blaster bolts scorched the air on their way toward him. Before the bolts struck home, he flung himself back behind cover. They rammed themselves in the wall, tolling like bells against the durasteel.

"Hush," Vizif said. Blue blade humming, she deflected incoming blaster bolts.

Two squads of Sith soldiers had lain in wait at the spaceport on Litooine. Civilians, caught in the middle had either run or been knocked down by the vile soldiers.

"And weaponless," Vek said, on a roll. "So sporting of us to go in handicapped against a determined foe: one Jedi and an unarmed padawan."

" _Vek_." Vizif saved that tone for special occasions. It meant enough was enough.

"Stellar," Vek said. Then, he heard a deep guttural sound to his left. His tongue clacked against the roof of his mouth when he saw a badly injured woman, pinned down behind a registration desk.

With his master busy, he knew what he had to do. Quickly, he positioned himself near the edge of his own cover, then deftly rolled, tucking his head before sprinting toward the desk.

A blaster bolt whizzed by, so close he felt errant static tug at the fringe of his robe. Before he knew it, he was crouching beside the quietly moaning human.

"I'm sorry," he said, unbuttoning her suit jacket. He slipped his hand inside, doing the same for two buttons of her blouse. "I have to," he added as he felt for the wound in her upper abdomen.

The singeing of the bolt had partially cauterized the wound. That was the good. Through the Force, he could feel veins hemorrhaging blood. Her ribs had been penetrated, along with her right lung. When his fingertips found the hole, he closed his eyes.

 _==Slow your breathing.==_ He sent her the message, not as words, per se, but translated them into a feeling. Nearly unconscious, he sensed her trying to obey.

 _==Good.==_ In his mind's eye, he guided blood cells toward shredded veins, eased them together to form clots. One by one, he sealed the troubled spots, rerouting red and white cells.

The hole in her lungs was a different matter. Once the blood went where he wanted it, he focused on the bits of good tissue, helping them replicate and spread across the void toward the other side.

When his fingers briefly slipped to her right breast, he sheepishly drew away slightly. "Sorry," he mumbled.

By now, the victim was more coherent. Her breathing had gotten stronger and steadier and she regarded him with a weak smile. "Normally, I don't let strange men touch me, you understand." It took all her strength to lift her head slightly from the floor, but she got closer to his ear to whisper, "But in your case, I'm glad to make an exception." Then, she fell unconscious. It was better that way, for Vek had no witty comeback.

 _==You didn't get out much, er, where you came from, I mean,==_ Vizif's voice in his head sounded amused. _==I'm almost finished with these soldiers. It should be safe to-==_

Vek perked his head up. His master's connection with him had rapidly dimmed to almost nothing. Then, he saw why. One of the Sith, an experienced noncom by his look, had managed to catch her in a crossfire.

The woman he tended was resting comfortably. The same wouldn't be so for Vizif if he didn't act quickly. Most of the Sith were down, but the tricky noncom had two others to rely on. Vek had only himself.

He slipped off his boots and took off like a shot. In the past, he would sneak up on coworkers without meaning to; he was simply that quiet. Without footwear, he closed the distance between himself and the noncom in a few strides.

When the Sith turned, Vek was right on top of him. Rather than try fancy combat skills he didn't possess, Vek simply remembered his old sports days and collided with the noncom at full speed. Both men went flying, the Sith losing his blaster rifle. As he fell, Vek wrapped his arms around his foe, falling down atop him.

Vek rammed his helmeted head into the ground. The Sith elbowed him in the ribs and tried to reverse the hold, but Vek kept up his assault until the Sith's helmet popped off. Then, Vek slammed the knuckle of his middle finger into the soldier's temple. The Sith lost consciousness.

About to get a look at his surroundings, a blaster bolt flew over his head. Instead, he slid across the floor to the noncom's rifle. He reached out to Vizif through his bond. Though he'd been getting better at healing people, he still had to be in direct contact with them.

Now, he concentrated as hard as he could on his master. If he could, he would heal her from a distance. The blaster rifle went to his shoulder and he squeezed off a round at one of the two remaining soldiers.

Suddenly, he felt his master's presence again. _==Thought you'd lost me, eh?==_ Vizif's blade hummed. She used the Force to run to the soldiers. The first, she sliced his rifle in half, then threw him against the wall with a Force shove. The second, squeezed off a shot which grazed her shoulder. She dodged another bolt and sunk her blade into his chest.

"Shock me with a stun stick, why don't you," Vek said as he popped up, rifle at the ready. "You could have given me some warning, Master. I was already thinking about becoming Vandar's Padawan after your untimely death."

In response, she gave a one finger salute.

Still, he hurried forward to take a look at her. The noncom had blasted her in the back, but the bolts had missed major arteries and organs by only the slightest of margins. However, the damage had already been healed.

"Kolto," Vizif said with a smirk. "I'm not much of a healer. Not like you." She nodded her head toward the injured woman. "I take it you made a new friend?"

"Casual acquaintance," he said. "Back home, we would have called it 'friends with benefits'."

She snorted laughter. Jedi weren't what he'd been expecting. He'd heard they were less... stuck up than Jedi during Anakin Skywalker's time, but he and his master occasionally shared racier jokes than he'd thought possible.

"Will she..." Vizif didn't finish the sentence, knowing he would understand.

"She'll recover fully," he said. Before they continued on their mission, they helped everyone who'd been wounded. His first patient had been by far the worst. As healers took her out on a stretcher, she grasped Vek's hand.

"Be well," he said and let her go. She was attractive.

"Is that..." Vizif grabbed his hand and regarded her padawan suspiciously. "Is that her comm signature?"

She'd written it quickly on a piece of flimsy, stuck it in his hand. "I wasn't going to comm her," he said defensively. "Besides, I wouldn't be able to find a way to meet her."

"Padawan," she said and he regarded her. "Shush," she said and he grinned.

Quickly, she changed tack. "We have to find out where Master Craroc went from here. I'm really worried about him now that we've been attacked. What if the Sith got him?"

"You mean he wasn't one already?" Vek asked, half jokingly. Craroc was a taciturn fellow.

Once the authorities arrived and dealt with the situation, the two Jedi started asking around about Craroc. None of the workers seemed to remember a Jedi arriving at the port.

"What about this droid, Master?" Vek asked. It was a protocol droid and seemed lost. "Do you work here?" he asked it.

"This unit-" The droid took a few moments to analyze data. "This unit is currently unaware of its proper function."

"That's strange," Vizif said. She took a closer look at the droid. "It looks like it's been tampered with." Datapad in hand, she got to work trying to fix it, Vek helping as best he could.

"Oh, thank you, Master Jedi," the droid said after they'd bypassed its secondary memory core, which seemed to have been set to primary function.

"I am VE-3, but most call me, 'Vinny'," the droid said. "How may I assist you?"

"What is your function?" Vizif asked.

"I am currently tasked with transfer requests and transport away from the spaceport for arriving passengers," Vinny said.

"Have you seen Master Darrdan Craroc?" Vizif asked.

"Accessing," Vinny said, then made whirring sounds. "I am sorry, that name does not compute."

"What about any name similar," Vek asked.

"Accessing," Vinny said. "There was a D. Craroc earlier this morning. No mention of being a Jedi and he wore civilian clothing."

"Where did he go?" Vizif asked.

"To the smaller island south of here," Vinny said. "He arranged transport to the northwestern most valley in the shadow of Mount Ferno, a dormant volcano."

"Did he reprogram you?" Vek asked.

"Accessing." Vinny bleeped, whirred and made several noises that sounded like rejected data. "I am sorry, I have no information on that."

"Stellar," Vek said, turning to Vizif. "Let's get some help on this, Master."

"Agreed," she said and grabbed her commlink. "Master Vandar," she said and received static. "Enclave, this is Knight Vizif, do you copy?" More static.

Vek punched a few buttons on his datapad. When he found what he was looking for, he showed it to her. "Our frequencies are being actively blocked. Only enclave frequencies."

"Is there anything else you require, Masters Jedi?" Vinny asked.

Vizif looked first at Vinny, then at Vek.

"Oh, crap on a stick, Master," Vek said, his eyes threatening to roll up into his head. Then, he clutched at the blaster rifle he still held. "At least I'll be armed this time." He knew where they were going next.


	4. Chapter 4

**4**

"Well, I expected to see something grand," Vek said. To the southeast, jutting from the igneous rock surrounding it, a great cavernous fissure opened. More than two centuries had passed since the last eruption of Mount Ferno, making it the most recent volcano on Litooine.

The transport dropped them off within half a kilometer of some ancient ruins. Dense foliage hindered a closer landing. Lightsaber in hand, Vizif cut her way through the jungle, Vek following closely behind.

Off to their right, something growled. "Here, kitty, kitty," Vek said, reaching into the pouch that swung on his hip.

"Don't encourage it, whatever it is," Vizif warned. "I don't want to kill it."

"Then don't," Vek said placidly. From the tangle of vines stepped a wildcat. Smaller than a mountain lion, larger than a lynx – to Vek's understanding – the saber-toothed cat hissed, pawing at the ground with large pads.

"A rynx," Vizif said, turning her blade toward the cat.

 _==We've already encroached on its territory, Master,==_ Vek said calmly through their bond. _==Now, we must pay the price.==_ The rynx growled, then shot forward quickly.

Vek dropped the piece of meat he'd taken from his pouch. Rather than attack him, the hungry cat pounced on it. It's razor sharp teeth quickly devoured the pungent meat.

 _==Obey, and no one needs to get hurt.==_ Vek sent a clear, strong message to the cat through the Force. Where he'd come from, he'd had an especial affinity for charming felines. Now that the Force was becoming his ally, he found it even easier.

Before his master could even object, he scratched the purring animal behind the ear. "Good kitty," he said.

Now, he regarded Vizif, staring his way, her left arm angled so her fist could rest on her hip. "Don't tame it," she said sternly. "Jedi aren't allowed to keep pets."

Vek glanced down at the rynx, then back at his master. "You know how to suck the life out of any party, don't you, Master?" he asked, his tongue in his cheek. "Off you go," he told the rynx. "Yes, you're a pretty kitty, but I don't have any more meat for you." It had cost him the small stipend the enclave granted for expenses to get that one piece. The Force had tugged at him in the spaceport in Damerel that he might need it.

The rynx gave a half roar, half meow, then trotted away.

Shaking her head, Vizif returned to cutting her way through the jungle. _==I wish you'd teach me that.==_

 _==You either got it or you don't, Master.==_

Before long, they stood before a large stone door. "Let's see if we can find another entrance," Vizif said. A structure, buried beneath impenetrable jungle spread out before them. Their search was short, as all paths led to vines and brush so thick it would have taken a small army of lightsabers to cut their way through.

"If we believe Craroc was here, by himself, or at least, with a very small party," Vek said, "then he had to enter through this door."

"Agreed," Vizif said. Hands outstretched, Vek could feel the Force gather around her. She directed it to the stone slab and it trembled slightly. "Help me, Padawan," she said quietly, reaching out for his hand.

Hers felt hot to the touch. When he closed his eyes and reached out for the slab, his hand warmed to meet the temperature of hers. The skin of her hand was soft, yet calloused. Fingers looped around his palm.

When he opened his eyes, the slab of rock glowed. Carefully, they eased it from its place. The mental strain made him close his eyes again and try to pass the burden on to the Force.

 _==You're improving marvelously,==_ she said through their bond. _==I can feel the struggle easing within you.==_

"Thanks, Master," he said with words; the task he worked on didn't permit him the extra energy to reply through their bond.

"There," Vizif said. The stone slab rested against the side of the immense temple. A faint glow from inside beckoned them.

Familiar design spoke to Vek as they headed down the central walkway. _This is a Rakatan Temple._ He made sure to keep this thought separate from his master. _It's too similar to the one on Dantooine to be a coincidence. I wonder if there's a Star Map here, too._

He wasn't sure if it would be good or bad, to have Vizif stumble upon it. Maybe Revan, in a couple of centuries, wouldn't discover the Star Forge, because Vizif might have already found and destroyed it. Of course, the Dark Side in that place might infect his master the way it did Revan and Malak.

"Do you know which way we're going?" Vizif's voice drew him from his thoughts.

"Master?" he asked and came to a stop. When he looked around him, he discovered they'd come to a room where several paths branched. He'd been walking toward one of the branches, lost in his thoughts.

"I- I suppose I do, Master," he said. Clearing his thoughts, he felt a presence in the direction he'd been walking.

"Beware, Padawan," Vizif warned as she caught up to him. "The Dark Side is strong here."

"Yes, Master." That was the legacy of the Rakatans.

They passed writings on the walls neither of them could decipher. Vek had been learning how to write Basic at the enclave, along with other, less dominant languages. This was very different, very alien.

When they had descended several dozen meters down a long, winding pathway, the jungle began to encroach on the temple. Over many millennia, stone walls had eroded from the advancing flora of Litooine, until roots and vines cracked through, bleeding into the remains of the temple.

"I smell smoke," Vizif said. She pointed ahead. "That glow, if I'm not mistaken, comes from the embers of a campfire."

Through inky blackness, Vek noticed subtle reds and oranges. The fire had gone out, yes, but she was right: the embers remained. Vek lit several glow sticks, tossed them about on the stone floor.

"A pack," Vizif said, taking it in her hands. "One that doesn't belong to the Jedi enclave." From it, she pulled a spare robe. "Master Craroc's size and style," she said.

"So he was here," Vek said as he stooped to examine footprints in the thick dust. "Look here, Master, a larger and smaller set of boot prints. Someone was waiting for Craroc, or arrived sometime after he did." Then, he pointed to a nearly hidden passageway. "Their tracks lead off this way."

"Lead on, Padawan," Vizif said.

Now, Vek felt a warning pulsing through the Force. The blaster rifle he carried on his back was soon in his hands. "This addition seems more recent," he said, examining the walls. "It isn't as elaborately cut from the rock as before."

"You're right," Vizif said behind him. This corridor was only big enough to support one bipedal creature at a time.

There was another faint, crimson glow before them. It curled Vek's toes. A creeping chill slid up his spine as they got closer.

 _==I feel it, too,==_ Vizif spoke through their bond. _==Sinister, waiting.==_

When the corridor opened up again, they came to a stop, side by side. Shelves, carved into the rock held triangular metallic objects that glowed scarlet.

"Holocrons," Vizif said quietly.

One of them began to speak. In low, guttural utterances, it drew Vizif closer. Vek didn't understand a word of it, but his master seemed to. Maybe it was speaking a language he hadn't been taught, or maybe it was purposely clouding his mind, refusing to be understood by more than one being at a time.

"Be careful, Master," Vek said as he watched her walk closer to the holocron. "Don't listen to it."

"Shush, Padawan," she said, her voice distant and hollow. She reached for the holocron and it floated to her hand.

"I get the sudden feeling I'm alone," Vek said. For a moment, he spotted a glimmer, off to his left. "Or maybe the party's just getting started." A shimmer of light caught his attention, though he couldn't see what was causing it.

The Force tugged at the collar of his robe. Listening, he ducked behind cover, aimed his rifle at the flickers of light. When he squeezed off a round, the bolt flashed through the air, striking something that roared.

"Oh, Sith hells," he said. A Hssiss monster appeared. Reptilian in nature, it reminded him of a prehistoric crocodile that stood almost two meters high and nearly ten meters long.

Not waiting for an introduction to the beast's jaws, he squeezed off a few more rounds. Blaster bolts seemed to do little damage to the Hssiss, though he supposed enough of them would kill it.

"Master, time to go," he said. "Nasty, spiky, sharp teeth." Vizif seemed entranced by the holocron as it croaked at her. "Stellar," Vek said and fired more bolts at the Hssiss.

The monster glowed for a moment, shoved Vek backwards with a blast from the Force. It only controlled the Force in a raw, instinctual way, but that was enough. It was also resistant to the padawan's attempts to push back on it with the Force.

"Master!" he shouted. He leaped up onto the boulder he'd used for cover as the Hssiss drew near. Vizif didn't stir.

Finally, the Hssiss snapping at him, he concentrated on the holocron. Its cold, shiny surface gave off such blinding heat it almost seared his thoughts. Still, he clutched at it through the Force, dragged it across the empty space to his hand. Before it could talk to him, he stuffed it into his pouch.

 _==Master, come back to me,==_ he called through their bond.

He recognized the moment the trance left her. That was when the Hssiss monster noticed her. Blue blade shimmering in the fetid air, she leaped toward it. Now, Vek delighted in blasting the Hssiss as his master carved away at it. Taken from both sides, the creature lashed out through the Force in dying agony, but both master and padawan were able to block its feeble attempts.

Dead, it slumped to the dirty ground. Vek hopped down from the boulder, clasped Vizif on the shoulder. "Are you all right, Master?"

She grasped him at the elbow. "Thank you, Padawan," she said. "There I go, telling you to be careful, then I get sucked into the clutches of that... that thing."

Other holocrons on the shelves remained silent. That was good. There were too many of them; it was likely that, if they all spoke, neither of them would be able to resist.

"What should we do with it?" Vek asked, motioning toward his pouch.

"Well, it's pretty clear that Master Craroc was here," Vizif said. "But he's not anymore. He met someone, and they ventured down this way. I think, it's time to return to Dantooine and speak with Master Vandar."

"Thank the Force," Vek said. Fortunately, the holocron didn't try to speak with him the whole walk back to the waiting transport.


	5. Chapter 5

**5**

"Interesting," Vandar said when Vizif handed him the Sith holocron. "And you are certain Master Craroc visited this place?"

"As certain as may be, Master Vandar," Vizif said.

"This is troubling news," Vandar replied. "I must inform the Jedi Council; please, return to your teachings and I will speak with you again shortly."

"Well, Padawan," Vizif said as they left Vandar's company, "maybe we can take some time to relax?"

"What? No tortures, no running into danger, playing the big heroes?" Vek asked. "No games of shoot the padawan? No evil Sith guys in pyramids to hypnotize you while I get eaten by a giant crocodile?" He tilted his head to stare at her crookedly. "I can handle that."

"Just for that, Padawan, you can come with me," Vizif said. "You can learn how I relax."

"Something tells me I'm going to regret this," Vek said.

They returned to the lowest level of the enclave. The droids were receiving maintenance, which pleased Vek greatly. "Aw, what a shame, Master," he said. "No target practice. Unless you want to grab a blaster and shoot me again. You know, for old time's sake."

The technician who worked on the droids glanced their way for a moment, then returned to his work.

"Don't tempt me," Vizif returned. To the technician, she asked, "May I borrow a couple of those, please?"

"I've finished with these two, Knight Krat," the tech said. One bipedal and another on wheels came over to stand before Vizif and Vek.

"Have a seat, Padawan," Vizif said. "This is how _I_ relax."

When Vek was on the other side of the room, he watched his master spar against the droids. They had blasters integrated into their frames. The bipedal droid leveled its arms in her direction and spewed forth several bolts in quick succession. At the same time, the wheeled droid tried to get around her side.

Vek watched his master carefully, feeling the Force surround her. The energy field gave her fleeting glimpses of where each blaster bolt would strike her, giving her the ability to dodge or block with enough time. However, the Force looked cloudy in her mind. Her mechanical assailants didn't have the thought processes of organics and tricked her several times, despite her best efforts.

"Rats," she said as a practice bolt got through her defenses. Then, the wheeled droid managed to get her in a crossfire. Both droids deactivated when a practice bolt struck her hand, knocking her blade to the floor.

"Let me see that, Master," Vek said, hurrying to her side as she clutched at her hand. "A little singed," he said and closed his eyes. He covered her hand with his, digging down to the cellular level, stimulating the cells to replicate.

When he removed his hand, hers was good as new. "Thank you, Vek," Vizif said. "I'm not nearly so good against droids as I wish I was."

"And you find getting shot relaxing?" Vek asked. "No wonder you enjoy blasting your own padawan."

"I'll enjoy it more, the more you keep running your mouth," Vizif said.

"Wait," Vek said, a memory floating to the surface. "I have something for you, Master. In our quarters."

Rather than take the lift, the pair walked up the flight of stairs to the living quarters. Vek palmed open the door and promptly tripped over a robe that had been forgotten on the floor.

"Sorry, Padawan," Vizif said and grabbed it. She was blushing a little. "I set a bad example, I suppose."

"That's all right, Master," Vek said. "I wasn't all that neat when I was your age, either."

"And you've improved since then?" his master asked around a grin. "I've seen your room, you know."

"All right, all right; you want your present or not?" Vek asked. Instead of wait for an answer, he hurried through the cramped common area into his tiny room. Hidden away in the clothes he arrived in, he palmed the shiny object he'd discovered, alone in the Kinrath cave.

When he came out of his room, Vizif was tidying up a little, removing sweat stained undergarments from the couch.

"And you wonder why I never sit on that thing, Master," Vek said and watched his master blush again. "You're so cute when you do that," he added, smirking like a maniac.

"Time for your blaster shot of the day," Vizif said angrily.

"Peace, Master," Vek said and took her hand. Into her palm, he placed the object. "The Force keeps reminding me to give this to you."

"A lightsaber crystal," Vizif said, turning it over in her hand. "Jenraux, if I'm not mistaken. They have a unique vibration in the Force."

"Jenraux is good for blaster bolt deflection," Vek said.

Vizif's bright smile lit up the room. "Thank you, Vek," she said, her voice like a pleasant melody. But then, she slumped onto the couch, her smile quickly turning upside down.

"What is it?" Vek studied her closely. Her outward appearance hadn't fully masked her sadness of late and now it seemed to pour from her.

"I feel I've failed you, Padawan," she said, her voice now a dirge.

"What?" Vek sat beside her, putting his arm around her shoulders. "What are you talking about?"

"I wasn't prepared to be a master," she said, staring down toward her knees. "You haven't learned that much from me."

"Master, I've learned _plenty_ from you," Vek said. "If not for you, I wouldn't know how to heal. The Force was just something I'd heard about. You, Master, helped me to _feel_ it. Are you disappointed that I'm not a kid, Master? Is that what you would have preferred?"

"No," she said, sounding a bit cheerier. "Kids wake you up in the middle of night. They want a drink of water before bed and have to be shown how to do pretty much everything. I was glad to have found a padawan who didn't need so much... breaking in."

"Breaking in?" Vek asked around a chuckle, only to hear her giggle a bit. "You've done a great job with me. I'd be totally lost here without you."

"You really mean that, don't you?" Vizif asked.

"Of course," he said. "Come on, let's go take a walk on the plains and smell some fresh air. Frankly, the smell from your used socks is starting to make me nauseous."

Playfully, she punched him in the arm. He rubbed the sore spot, getting off the couch as quickly as possible. Vizif giggled again and bounded to her feet.

As they walked through the front door, he turned and asked, "Can I have a drink of water before I go to bed, Master?"

She shoved him forward for his trouble.

Several days passed with no word from Vandar. He was the only master on Dantooine, but the enclave had droids and an administrator to oversee the daily work assignments. A few Knights were there to handle the occasional raider attack on the settlements. In the Outer Rim, even a sanctuary planet like Dantooine had its fair share of problems.

Vek and Vizif meditated together in the small library in the lower level of the enclave. It was more peaceful there than anywhere else.

The Living Force was what she taught him. However, from books and holocrons in the library, Vek was learning about the Unifying Force as well. It said that there was more to the universe than black and white, light and dark, and that fitting perfectly into one or the other wasn't always necessary.

The Force poked him as the diminutive master entered the library. "Master Vandar," Vek said, opening his eyes.

As usual, Vizif was on her feet faster. She bowed to Vandar before Vek was even upright. "To what do we owe the pleasure, Master Vandar?" she asked.

The librarian hushed them from behind his counter. He was such a stick in the mud.

"Please, this way," Vandar whispered. He led them to the refectory, waited for them to be seated.

"Whatever it is, I didn't do it," Vek said.

Vandar wasn't in the mood. "Authorities in Damerel have finally uncovered Master Craroc's tracks," he said. "He, and an as yet unidentified woman, took transport to Padomere, one of the moons of Dathomir."

" _Shavit_ ," Vizif said, her hand quickly rising to cover her mouth. "My apologies, Master Vandar. Isn't Dathomir strong in the Dark Side?"

"A world of seers," Vandar said. "Not unlike the Miraluka," he observed, gazing into Vizif's veil. "But, yes, this does not bode well for Master Craroc."

"I'm more interested in this unidentified woman," Vek said.

"You would be," his master replied with a smirk.

"Funny," Vek said. "Funny like a crutch."

Vizif turned her attention to Vandar. "I suspect this woman was who Craroc met in that underground temple."

"Oh?" Vandar asked.

"The other set of bootprints was smaller, narrower," she said. "That doesn't _prove_ they belonged to a female, but why else would he leave with her?"

"My master is right, Master Vandar," Vek said. "I think she – whoever she is – enticed Craroc with something, maybe one of those holocrons."

"Something. _Right_." Vizif grinned wickedly. "Someday, Padawan, I need to teach you of the facts of life."

"Interesting theory, you two have," Vandar said. "I want both of you on this mission."

"Really, Master Vandar?" Vizif sounded eager.

"I've already made the arrangements," Vandar said. "You leave tomorrow."

As they made their way back to their quarters to pack, Vek felt the Force tug him toward the upper level. "Master," he said and she stopped, regarded him. "I think it's time you helped me be less defenseless than I was before."

Vizif took in a deep breath, held it. He could sense her feeling around the fringes of their bond. Tentatively, she penetrated to his inner thoughts. Rather than shy away, he opened up to her, though he hid the knowledge from her he had as a Frag.

At last, she nodded her head. "It's time you built your first lightsaber, Padawan. Normally, that's the way for an Initiate to rise to the rank of Padawan, but you've been a special case from the beginning."

"I'm special, all right." Vek winked at her and she laughed.

"Very well, Padawan: based on what I've seen of you, I believe you would do best as a Jedi Sentinel. What do you think?"

"Don't I get a quiz like other initiates?" Vek asked.

"That's for when the Master doesn't know you so well," Vizif answered. "As I've said, you're different. You like to think things out before you act. You are a good healer and I suspect you'd be more at home ferreting out deceit than negotiating treaties."

"I could be a Guardian," Vek said and flexed a muscle. To which Vizif laughed. "Thanks."

"I'm not laughing _at_ you, silly," Vizif said. "You're very humorous. But no, Guardians become masters of the blade and tend to not be as... bright as other Jedi. Meaning no disrespect; after all, I'm a Guardian myself." Her blue lightsaber proved that much.

"You're the exception to that rule, Master," Vek said.

"Your pause before saying that won't go unnoticed, Padawan." Vizif's grin was amused. "No, I think a Sentinel is what you were meant to be, Vek."

They reached a workbench in the upper level of the enclave. From a drawer beneath, she drew a yellow crystal and several parts. She stood behind him, grasping his hands in hers. "Now, this is how it's done."

Pleased, he felt his hands warm in hers. She was the perfect master for him; she knew him well. Why had she doubted herself, if only briefly? She knew he learned best by practice and she guided his hands this way and that.

Before long, he ignited his first lightsaber. "It's... yellow, Master," he said, a bit underwhelmed by one of his least favorite colors.

"You can always change it," Vizif said. "Later, though, as we have another mission."

The blade hummed as he swung it carefully before extinguishing it. "And now, at least, I won't be completely helpless."

"Padawan, I've seen you with the practice blades," Vizif said, shaking her head slowly. "You _are_ helpless."

Vek's tongue found a pocket of air at the roof of his mouth. He clacked his tongue at his master. "Stellar," he said.


	6. Chapter 6

**6**

The tight, gaseous atmosphere of Dathomir gave the planet a sinister, purplish coloring from space. Storms raged across the surface, stirring the dark shades.

"The Witches of Dathomir are nothing but legend," Vizif said as they stared out the starship's viewports. "Told around campfires for centuries."

Vek pointed at a particularly dark spot. "I don't know about you, Master, but that doesn't look much like a vacation spot I'd be interested in."

Her laugh was amused. "It's impossible to collect the Force from your surroundings, Padawan," she said. "If it isn't already inside you, then you're out of luck. The Witches' power supposedly ebbs and flows with the dark currents of the planet. What rubbish."

The registered transport wasn't exactly a luxury liner. Jedi had little need for money, so credits were hard to come by. This ship had been a freighter before conversion to a budget vacation transport. It still had a functioning hyperdrive, and that was the best Vek could say about the hulking scrap of durasteel.

Nearer to the planet, they drew. Then, the transport veered slightly to starboard. From behind the planet, a smaller body, no less bathed in a sinister light, stuck its curves into the viewer. Pock marks from asteroids littered the surface, its atmosphere a mix of deep blues and striking scarlet.

"Um, this place gives me the willies," Vek said and swallowed hard. His fingers rested on the hilt of his new lightsaber; his emerald stare transfixed on the moon.

"I admit to feeling the Dark Side here," Vizif said. "But it's not the planet or moon themselves, just the denizens here."

"That's supposed to make me feel better?" Vek asked. A moment too late, he realized maybe saying it aloud was meant to make _her_ feel better. He clasped her shoulder. "So long as we stick together, we'll be fine, Master."

In his grasp, her shoulder rose slightly and she nodded. "We'll find Master Craroc and get off this moon as quickly as we can."

The ship docked at a small port – the only port – on Padomere, near an ancient lake bed. Structures, crumbling and decrepit, rose not far away. Though habitable now, Padomere's atmosphere had been torn away in ancient times by an asteroid impact. Over the millennia it had stubbornly drawn atmosphere from its sister moon and Dathomir itself.

"How will we find Master Craroc?" Vek asked as they walked down the ship's ramp. "I don't think it would be wise to simply ask the first person we come across."

"We'll check into our hotel first," Vizif said. "I'm certain a solution will present itself. Besides, I've been stuck on that transport for a week; I'm filthy."

"Not to mention you stink, Master," Vek said, eyebrow raised.

His master glared at him for a moment, then turned and continued walking. "That's similar to the pot calling the kettle black, isn't it?"

Out of her sight, Vek sniffed at his armpit, then shook his head.

From the outside, the hotel looked as rundown as the ruins beside the dried up lake. Inside, however... "It still looks like a herd of nerfs stampeded through here, Master," Vek said.

"Agreed," Vizif answered quietly. They approached the check in desk. A bald, pale woman stood there, her face an apathetic mask.

"How may I help you, folks?" she asked. She wore a red cloak, black piping down the open sides. Her gaunt features and flat affect seemed perfectly in character with her surroundings. Dark energy tensed inside her at their approach.

"We have a reservation," Vizif said, handing the woman her identicard.

"Ah, yes. The Jedi." If the woman held any more animosity toward them than came out in her words, Vek would have been very surprised. Red eyes, white pupils glaring, she glanced down at the identicard, then back up, her eyelids nearly shrouding them.

Vek grabbed hold of his Master's connection to the Force, held on for dear life. He felt her reach into their bond as well. They drew strength from each other, feeling the heavy presence of the Dark Side close in on them as moments stretched.

At last, the woman behind the counter handed back Vizif's identicard. Behind her hung room cards. She turned, grabbed one and slid it toward her. "Room Thirteen thirteen. My name is Kavia; if you have any troubles with the door, or anything else, come see me." When she attempted a smile, sharp teeth gleamed in the diffused lighting, a shadow over her making the gesture even more sinister.

"Kavia," Vizif said as they stood in the rickety lift. "Why does that name sound so familiar?"

"Right on the tip of my tongue, too," Vek said.

When the lift doors opened, they strode across grimy carpeting. Dried blood caked the walls in places, telling brief tales of gore long gone.

"They really know how to decorate, don't they?" Vizif asked and Vek could only grunt agreement.

Room Thirteen thirteen loomed large at the end of the hall. The lock bleeped as she stuck the passcard into it. Red light turned green and the door slid open with a hiss.

A hanging chandelier cast haunting shadows against walls of black. A dead plant drooped in a corner of the common room. Even the furniture, of black leather, seemed to ooze darkness.

"Charming place, if you're the Addams Family," Vek said, forcing another giggle from Vizif. He'd told her a little of his home, here and there during off times. "Changed your mind about the Dark Side infesting a place?" he asked after he'd set his satchel in one of the small rooms off the main.

She stared at the chandelier, watching the ghostly lights dance in an absent breeze. "No," she said, but a chill was creeping up her spine. Quickly, she turned, sucked in a sharp breath. "I'm taking a shower."

"About time," Vek said, pinching his nose.

"You're next," she said and headed into the comfort room.

Rather than dwell on their sinister surroundings, Vek decided to meditate. It took longer to center himself, but then light began to flicker and flow around him. He was learning all he could about the Unifying Force. Dark and Light both had their place in the galaxy. In non-Force terms, it was impossible for good to exist without evil: so why did the Jedi say the Dark Side should be eradicated?

As he sat there, absorbed in the Force, he caught a vision of the ruined Rakatan temple on Litooine. The trail that had led them to the room with Sith holocrons seemed to glow now in his memory. Had the boot prints purposely been left for them to find?

Then, an image of the pack they'd discovered hit him with a rush. The Force made time stop, just as Vizif lifted the pack. Etched inside it was a word. They hadn't noticed it at the time. Or, more accurately, they noticed it, but only in their subconscious.

Now that it stared him in the face, Vek's eyes popped open. Shadows crept in the murky twilight bathing their room. They morphed into humanoid shapes clinging to the walls.

"Master," Vek said calmly. A flood from the Force at last made him aware of the presence.

He hopped up, grabbing at the hilt of his saber. From the shadows stepped an assassin, his dark cloak blending in with the surroundings. Before Vek could ignite his blade, the Sith slammed him with a burst from the Force.

Vek shot backward through the door to the comfort room. "Company, Master," he said. Vizif was already leaping from the sonic shower, calling her blade to her. She raced forward with a burst from the Force. Blue and red hummed and whined against one another. Vek stood and hurried to her side, his yellow blade burning.

The assassin hissed, leaped over them. His feet caught the ceiling and he walked across it, before dropping down behind them. He jabbed with the point of his blade.

Twisting, Vek batted it away as Vizif swiped low. The Sith leaped backward, picked up a chair with the Force and flung it at Vek, who turned, allowing the chair to strike him in the side, where it hurt less.

The Sith locked blades with Vizif, then danced around to kick at Vek. Rather than evade, Vek reached out with his free hand, catching the Sith's foot.

The assassin jumped, took a swipe at Vizif again to lock blades a second time. His free leg lower than his captured one, he kicked out, striking Vek's shin, making him let go of the foot he'd caught. Free again, the Sith got to his feet, dodging a slash from Vizif, then sent a slew of pans from the kitchen hurtling toward her.

As she batted away the cookware, Vek waited. Leg sore, he watched as the assassin locked blades with his master again. The Sith gathered the Force around him to use against Vizif. A brief jolt surged from the Sith, but Vek charged at him, lowering his shoulder into the assassin's midsection.

The Sith flew back into the wall; his blade dropped to the floor. In the confusion, Vek's blade also fell. He tried to twist one of the Sith's arms behind his back, but the assassin was quick, if not physically powerful. He wriggled free and slid the small dining table across the room to block his exit. He ran to the balcony, dove off, calling his blade to him as he disappeared over the railing.

Huffing and puffing, Vek hurried to the balcony. There was no sign of the assassin. When he turned back, he stared.

"Padawan, I'd suppose you've never seen a nude woman before," Vizif said, not the least bit ashamed. With outstretched hand, she called a towel to her and soon tied it just over her bosom. She was sweating and breathing heavily, too.

"That had to be the welcoming committee," Vek said as he dropped to the couch. Then, he glanced at her again. "And I've seen a few, Master." He didn't want to comment any farther on what he'd stared at moments before.

Her smile lit up the room better than the ghastly chandelier. Then, her jaw dropped open. "Just before we were so rudely interrupted, I remember..."

"That pack we found on Litooine," Vek said, the image returning to his head. "Kavia. That was the name etched in the pack."

Vizif dressed in a hurry. They both ran down the stairs; the lift might have taken too long. When they reached the lobby, Kavia wasn't behind the desk. Another woman, also bald and pale, stood there.

"How may I assist?" she asked, smiling genially.

"Where did Kavia go?" Vizif demanded.

"Who?" the woman asked.

"She works here," Vek said. "Looks similar to you."

"Many of us have similar appearances," the new woman said. "Our Mother sees to that. But I have no idea who Kavia is. No one works here with that name."

" _Shavit_ ," Vizif said.

"Oh, you're the Jedi," the woman behind the desk said. She turned, grabbed a flimsy. "This was left for you, only a few minutes before you came down."

"What does it say, Master?" Vek asked as they took the lift back to their room. She'd been silent since receiving it.

"Someone who claims to have information wants to meet us in the ruins," Vizif said.

"Pull the other one," Vek said. "I've gotten about as much information as I care for right this moment."

"Agreed," Vizif said. "And yet, this is why we were sent here. Tomorrow, we'll go to the ruins."

"Stellar." Vek's fingers touched the smooth surface of his lightsaber.

When Vizif noticed, her smile briefly returned, though it was a ghost of its usual self. "You did well with the blade," she said.

"Thanks, Master," he replied. "You've taught me well." He remembered what she looked like, fresh out of the shower. He pushed that to the back of his mind, kept it hidden from their bond.

"I suppose I need to finish my shower," she said when they got back into their room. "Do keep a look out for Sith assassins, and I'll do the same when it's your turn."

"Master, I don't think that will be a problem," he said. If he got any sleep this night, he would be surprised indeed.


	7. Chapter 7

**7**

"Let's go, babe," Darrdan Nal Craroc grabbed her around the waist. For his trouble, he received a girlish grunt from his companion. The unregistered transport – colloquially known as a pirate ship – awaited them in the spaceport on Padomere.

"You're such a charmer." Bald, pale and excitable, Kavia planted a kiss on his forehead. "Do I have a surprise waiting for you," she added as the doors of the ship closed behind them.

"Glad you could join us," the pirate captain said, giving them a mock bow. Several of her companions wore blasters on their hips and Darrdan didn't like the way the Force felt in the tight quarters.

In another moment, he understood why. The pirates grabbed their weapons as the ship roared off the landing pad. "You'll get me and my crew a good ransom from the Jedi Council," their captain said.

"Pity you won't live to spend it." Now, Kavia growled, pushing away from Darrdan, her red lightsaber sparkling in the pale lighting.

Darrdan ignited his emerald blade and batted a few blaster bolts. His focus was on Kavia. The way she moved – graceful and deadly – made him feel she reacted to an unheard symphony. He felt more alive than ever in her presence. It was a feeling he never intended to give up, not for the Jedi, and especially not for the Sith.

When the captain's cronies were dead, the captain herself tried to flee to safety. She certainly knew her own vessel far better than Darrdan or his companion, but they could track her through the Force. A false panel in the cargo bay was easily torn from the frame.

Green and crimson mingled as the blades hummed harmoniously in the captain's face.

"We can cut a deal," the captain said. "I got credits."

"Don't worry; we'll find them," Kavia said and made to strike.

"Wait," Darrdan said. He pulled her aside. "She's defenseless now. We shouldn't."

She glared at him – milky white pupils studying him intently – then dropped her gaze to the floorboards. "All right, Darrdan," she said quietly. It was brave of her to try and leave her Sith ways behind her.

"Where's the credits?" Darrdan said when he returned to the pirate. "And where are your other hidden compartments?"

"And you'll let me go?" The captain hesitated before coming out of the compartment she'd stuffed herself in.

"Do you have an escape pod?" Kavia asked.

The pirate's glance told Darrdan the direction of her hidden stash. If it was full – of spice, or whatever smuggled goods – then he might have the money to do what had been on his mind for some time.

"There," the captain said, but Darrdan was already heading to the other side of the cargo bay. This second false panel was better concealed. Perhaps the scoundrel never intended to use the first, except as a decoy.

"Spice," Darrdan said. "A good portion, too. The credits we make off this will come in handy to finance the Knights."

"Agreed," Kavia said. She turned, her blade slicing through the air until it hovered close, too close to the captain's throat. "Now, you mentioned credits, too?"

"In the cockpit, hidden panel beneath the co-pilot's seat." The pirate licked dry lips, tried not to tremble too much.

"Don't go anywhere," Darrdan said and went to check. These last few weeks had been the best of his life. The Jedi were relics of ancient mistakes. They'd trained him in their ways, refusing to tell him fully of the rich past that Force users held.

The first Great Schism was caused by adherents to the light – or so they told themselves, as Darrdan had come to learn they weren't as 'good' as history recorded them to be. They refused to allow experiments outside what they considered 'right', telling others they had to conform or face censure.

The Legion of Lettow was formed by those who wished to learn all the ways of the Force, not just the rigid applications of the Jedi. And, for their trouble, they were ruthlessly slaughtered by the Jedi.

Now, the Force, rather than help expand the minds of those born to this galaxy, drew others to it. Frags, they called them. They were a blight, a final insult to all those who would have their own minds about how best to use the Force. The Sith and Jedi were bad enough, but Frags brought an unstable, unpredictable element to the galaxy.

Through Kavia, that delightfully free woman, he learned there was far more to the Force than either the Jedi or Sith wanted their disciples to know. She had rejected the Dark Side, or at least the part the Sith taught her, and reached for something unknown. Learning was all about testing the waters, so to speak, examining everything and taking what you decided was right for you from it.

The hidden cashbox was right where the scoundrel said it would be. Darrdan took it back to the cargo bay, showed its contents to his love. "There must be two thousand credits, babe," he said. "That spice is worth probably three times that."

"S-should be enough to buy one girl's freedom," the captain said. "I have an escape pod I can use."

Darrdan saw the blood lust in Kavia's eyes. She wanted to slice her up. He reached to her through their bond, stripping away some of the heat, like he'd strip away layers of clothing soon enough.

He recognized the moment she decided to let the smuggler go. Pale eyes, which had been fixed on the pirate's neck, dropped to the floor, swung over to Darrdan. The red blade disappeared into the hilt and she swung it from her belt again. The captain let out the breath she'd been holding, relaxed a little.

They stuffed her into the tiny escape pod and slammed the door. The pod launched into the cold of space.

"It's not like we did her a favor," Darrdan said. "How likely is it anyone will come along to rescue her?"

That thought spread a wicked smile across Kavia's sensuous lips. Darrdan hadn't known such sexual feelings could exist within him, not after what the Jedi had done to him. A life without passion, a life without exploration or discovery was death.

"You know how to cheer me up, lover," Kavia said and pounced on him. Their kiss deepened as she drew him closer. When she leaned back to regard him, her grin was mischievous. "Is that a crystal in your robe or are you happy to see me?"

He felt his own grin widen as he kissed her neck. "Let's set the navicomputer to autopilot," he said, his voice muffled. "Then we can enjoy ourselves."

"I'll go set it." Kavia bounded toward the cockpit. "You get comfy in the crew quarters." She still hadn't told him where they were headed, or what this surprise she had waiting for him was.

When she returned from the cockpit, all his questions vanished as they each peeled layers of clothing from the other. They took their time, and he enjoyed every delightful moment of it. Never before had he experienced such passion as when he was with Kavia.

Up in the cockpit, the hyperdrive disengaged. When they were dressed again, they each sat in a seat, stared out at the green-grey world coming up in the viewer.

"Metalorn?" Darrdan asked. It was an industrial world, but they were far from the Core Worlds. Metalorn was neither in the Sith Empire, nor in the Old Republic.

"I've already made a deal for a secluded spot near the north pole," Kavia said. She grabbed the controls, pulling the pirate ship into a turn. "The spice, we can sell after we make the place our own."

As he pondered the meaning of her cryptic words, the ship entered the atmosphere, dove toward a landing pad. The north magnetic pole faced the sun most of the year, making its climate a bit warm. At least they wouldn't have to deal with snow.

An inland sea surrounded the small landmass at the pole. Most of the planet's land was taken up by sprawling metropolises, but the pole had some pristine, grass covered hills and a crystalline lake. It was quite beautiful and Darrdan saw it through new eyes, impassioned eyes.

The small enclave they landed near rose from a hill. Covered in sod, it seemed to blend in with the surrounding hillsides, similarly to the enclave he'd built on Dantooine.

"You've done an excellent job making me feel at home, babe," Darrdan said, drew her close to peck her on the cheek.

"I try, lover," she said and shrugged. "Since we're both giving up all we've known, I wanted you to have a little taste of home."

"It's a pleasant surprise," Darrdan said, smiling happily.

"The best is inside, lover." Kavia grinned widely. They hurried in. A couple of new recruits Darrdan had met only once milled about, taking care of the day to day operations. Upon seeing Darrdan and Kavia, they stopped what they were doing, crossed their right arms, fists closed, over their chests and bowed. "Lettow Craroc, Lettow Ghent, we salute you," they chorused.

"Bring the prisoner," Kavia said when they finished the new ritual. They hurried away.

"I like the title," Darrdan said. "The Knights of Lettow will one day rise to become a rival of both the Jedi and Sith. We will show them the follies of their strictness."

When the Knights led a third, bound at the ankles and wrists, Darrdan stared. A Frag had an unmistakable aura which surrounded them. Having midichlorians infused into their DNA long after birth was traumatic and left them with a unique Force presence.

Beside him, Kavia's face lit up. "This was one of the mad, one who thought to make himself a fine Sith," she growled. "He rejected the Jedi, but sought out the Valley of the Dark Lords on Korriban, convinced he could gain power over other Sith. I give him to you as a present, dear Darrdan."

Not just the Jedi, not only the Sith, it was Darrdan's duty to rid the galaxy of Frags. They were dangerous, too often falling to the Dark Side. Most said the Force brought them to this galaxy with a purpose in mind. Darrdan felt betrayed by the Force, like those born to it weren't good enough. That the Force had a will of its own hurt him; he needed to correct this blight on the galaxy.

His green blade hummed. Here was a helpless prisoner. Everything he'd learned since being taken as an initiate at four years old told him to never harm someone vulnerable. But Frags drew others to their causes. Frags were dangerous, far too dangerous to let live.

A feeling of satisfaction washed over him as the body lay strewn on the marbled floor. The Knights dragged away the lifeless husk.

"Excellent, lover." Kavia's hiss in his ear steamed. It made him hot under the collar. "I know of many who would join us," she said. "I'm sure you can think of a few from the Jedi who don't exactly fit in. Now that the Knights of Lettow have formally been established, we should turn to recruitment."

"You're right." Darrdan was calm, at peace. He'd been taught that striking down an unarmed opponent would lead to the Dark Side. This didn't feel dark. It felt free. "We should also focus on Teräs Käsi," he said. "The blade is for the weak; we should encourage our Knights to be less reliant on it." The holocron Kavia had first enticed him with held ancient secrets to the Teräs Käsi – a form of hand to hand which was far deadlier than anything the Jedi taught. It was what had first drawn him to Kavia: the experience of learning something new.

"Of course, lover," Kavia said, a song in her words.

This was the beginning of something grand.


	8. Chapter 8

**8**

Vizif rented a speeder to take them to the ruins by the dry lake shore. The ride there was quiet; both master and padawan knew they were walking into a trap. They meditated and shared the Force back and forth between themselves. The remainder of their stay at the hotel had been free of incident, though it was anything but pleasant.

Adobe walls, half crumbled from antiquity, rose in piles above the landscape. They remained, elegant, if not functional, long after their inhabitants died out. Much of the site had been picked clean by treasure hunters and scavengers over the centuries, though an archaeologist could likely still glom knowledge of the people, if they spent enough time here.

"I'd love to have that time, Master," Vek said. No archaeologist, he was a lover of history nonetheless. However, tension filled the air, drawing them into the crumbling piles toward a central courtyard.

"Stay here, Padawan," Vizif said. "You'll need to escape and inform Master Vandar if I'm caught in this trap."

"Like hell, Master," Vek said. "I'm going with you."

"No sense in both of us getting killed," she said, fingering the hilt of her saber.

"I know. How about _neither_ of us get killed," Vek told her, staring intently into her purple veil.

She reached up, placed a hand on his shoulder. "You are a good padawan, Vek," she said. "But I mean it; the information we've found so far needs to survive." She inclined her head toward the courtyard, past a decaying multi-story oval shaped structure that might have been an arena. "You can feel the Dark Side, can you not? There's power here; it's not good."

"But-"

"Shh," she said, placing her index finger across his lips. "I can't stand the thought of losing you, Padawan," she said, a slight quiver barely hidden in her voice. "I'm going ahead. Whatever you decide to do, please be careful." With that, she turned and hurried on.

He stared after her for a few moments, then swore softly to himself. "Crap on a stick," he said. "She tried to use that talent she has with people on me." In truth, he could feel the Force gathering together, just beyond the oval shaped building. It was strong, but also familiar.

Willing his feet forward, Vek discovered an entrance to the oval building. There was no way up to the higher levels, which was good because they were likely so dilapidated they wouldn't hold his weight anyway, so he crept along the fringes toward the opposite side.

"This _was_ an arena," he said. The building opened up on the other side. The walls got shorter and wrapped partially around the open space it led to. Vek watched his master walk into the open space. A dozen women in red, their heads bald, formed a semi-circle. There, in the center stood the assassin who had tried to kill them yesterday.

"Who are you?" Vizif asked the assassin as she drew near. "I can help you come to the light, if you choose."

The assassin snarled. "I am Âtsadush, and my masters want you dead." His red blade danced in his hand and he rushed forward.

Crimson and azure mingled briefly. The women drew the Force to and around them. Rather than use it offensively, they merely enhanced the assassin's connection to it. Vek suspected the women themselves might not be able to use the Force, only gather it together.

Whatever the truth, Âtsadush was far stronger than he was on their first meeting. He and Vizif locked blades again and again, but the assassin tricked her several times with the Force, and drew blood from a superficial swipe to her left arm.

She staggered back and grasped at the tendril of Force surrounding the women, trying to loosen their cohesion. The assassin rushed forward again, his blade nearly skewering her, breaking her concentration. "You won't defeat me so easily this time, Jedi scum," he snarled.

Vek took hold of his own lightsaber. If he could at least distract the women, his master would be able to break their connection with Âtsadush.

Before he could move, though, the clanking of metallic feet drew his attention. A small squad of battle droids were heading through the arena. Blasters in hands, their shiny surfaces glimmered in the early morning sun.

The lead droid took a shot at Vizif. Vek's grip tightened around his saber as the bolt singed her robe about midway down her body. Flinching, she hadn't even known they were there.

"You're amazing with people," Vek said, igniting his blade. "But I can handle those droids." Simple math. Gathering the Force to him, he ran faster than he'd ever run before, getting between Vizif and the droids. A second, then a third shot deflected harmlessly away from his yellow saber.

"Padawan," she growled. Her blade came up, just in time to block a strike from Âtsadush that might have taken off her head.

"You can punish me if we survive, Master," Vek said. One of the bolts he deflected returned to sender, knocking the droid backward.

The assassin leaped between them. Vek got his blade up to block, but then Âtsadush knocked it away from him with a burst from the Force. Eyes wide, Vek dodged a strike, but then took a swipe that sliced through his robe near his chest. Flesh burned and he yelped.

Vizif rushed forward as Vek fell backward and away from the assassin. Blue crossed red again. She danced to her left, drawing Âtsadush away from Vek.

More blaster bolts surged toward her. One caught her in the hip, grazing past at the kissing touch. She staggered back, now with a slight limp.

That was when Vek realized the women in red weren't just calling the Force to them, they were draining it from the Jedi. His chest wound wasn't bad. The blade had whispered along the top layer of flesh. It probably hurt worse that way than a mortal wound.

He was having a hard time healing himself. The Force seemed to crackle and whine at his fingertips, rather than surge forth. Instead of try to bring his blade to him, he rolled across the dirt and scooped it up. Yellow light danced.

"Don't use the Force, Master," he called. "They're draining it from us for Âtsadush." He sliced into one, then the next droid. Rather than try to use it, he simply closed his eyes, let go and allowed the Force to guide him toward the mathematical drones.

When the last one fell, he turned his attention to the organics.

Âtsadush's arms and blade blurred. The Force coursed through him and unleashed a flurry that took all Vizif's concentration to defend against. Snarling like a ravenous beast, Âtsadush gathered the Force around him for one final blow. He feinted a downward strike, knocked Vizif's blade away, then struck her in the midsection, his blade scorching through flesh and tissue.

"Master!" Vek shouted as Vizif dropped to the ground, her blade fallen from limp fingers.

Âtsadush turned, feral hunger sparkling behind his eyes. He ran forward, batted Vek's blade, twisted, then watched as the yellow saber clattered to the dirt. "I call your efforts pathetic," he said, crimson death humming in Vek's face.

Vek, calm now, raised an eyebrow. His boot lurched upward, catching Âtsadush in the most sensitive spot men have. When the Sith doubled over in pain, his blade slipping from his grasp, Vek leaned in over him, grasping him around the waist. He lifted the Sith off the ground, Âtsadush's legs coming to rest over Vek's shoulders. Then, Vek slammed him, back first, into the ground. "And I call that a power bomb," he said calmly. Âtsadush was out cold.

Vek glared at the women. "Stop interfering now, or just kill me already," he said and hurried toward Vizif's crumpled body.

For a wonder, the women in red did stop. They seemed pensive now that Âtsadush was unconscious. Once again, Vek felt the Force, not as through a blanket. His fingers sparked with energy.

Peeling off Vizif's robe, he closed his eyes, touching her soft flesh. Sinews, muscle, tissue had all been scorched by the assassin's blade. Fortunately, it hadn't penetrated too deeply. Her internal organs were intact, except her gal bladder. That was where the blade had done the most damage.

Through their bond, he sent comfort to her as blood vessels glowed in the light of the Force and mended. _==Peace, Master. No more pain.==_ As he gathered blood to clot, he caught a glimpse of a hidden memory.

Vizif stared at her Umbaran Master. She lay in bed, sleeping comfortably. Passion welled up within; Vizif was perhaps thirteen and unmistakable feelings of love filled her. Then, the vision changed. Her master, breaking Vizif's heart, telling her she could never return such feelings. Passion flickered, the flame smoldered, then died alone.

"Vek?" Vizif stirred. She moaned, twisted. "Am I... alive?"

"No, Master, this is the afterlife," Vek said. "I'm an angel, can't you tell?"

His master reached up, pinched him until he yelped. "No angel could have a mug like yours, Padawan," she said. She sat up quickly. "Âtsadush?"

Pointing, Vek said, "There." The women were still there as well, gathered together, chatting to themselves.

Soon, Vizif was on her feet. "Thank you, Padawan," she said, perhaps unaware of what he'd seen in her mind. She closed her robe again and stared at the women. "What do we do with them?"

As if on cue, one broke off from the pack, headed toward them. "Please don't harm my sisters," she said. "That Sith made us help him. He said if we didn't his masters would return and slay us all. We don't know how to use what you call the Force; we can only aid someone who is talented in it."

"I suspected as much," Vizif said. Vek hung back, unable to get words out in the presence of so many people. He would have been a stuttering mess and sounded like a fool.

"If you return to your homes now, we won't have to inform the authorities," Vizif said. Not that it seemed likely the authorities would take their side anyway. Still, many of the women smiled wanly and hurried away.

"Thank you, Master Jedi," their spokeswoman said. She bowed and left with her sisters.

"Let's get Âtsadush bound and ready for transport," Vizif said. "Master Vandar might be able to get him to talk."

When they reached Âtsadush, the Sith leaped to his feet, called his blade to him. Acting on impulse, Vek threw his body forward, knocked the blade away before it was fully in Âtsadush's hand. The Sith growled, kicked Vizif who was still weak from her wound, and used the Force to run away.

Vek grabbed Vizif's hand, helped her to stand. "Should we go after him, Master?" he asked.

Staring in the direction in which Âtsadush ran, Vizif slowly shook her head. "No, Vek. We've tempted Fate enough for one day."

"But we don't have any leads on where Master Craroc or this Kavia woman have gone," Vek said. His chest wound still stung, even though the flesh had been healed. Even still, he shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, well, back to Dantooine I suppose." He was really heartbroken.

Sensing his sarcasm, Vizif shook her finger in his face. But then, she smirked. "Actually, you're right." When Vek gaped, her smirk turned into a frown. "We really haven't discovered much, except the name of Master Craroc's kidnapper. But there also doesn't seem to be much else we can learn from the surroundings. We should return to Dantooine and inform Master Vandar of our failure."

They found the first registered transport they could. When the ship roared from the atmosphere, Vek bid a not so fond farewell to Padomere. However, the Force wasn't finished with them. A passenger walked up to the public comm unit which sat near Vek's seat. She pushed a few buttons, trying to contact someone. When the unit blooped, she seemed agitated.

"Excuse me, Master Jedi," she said to Vek. "Could you help me?" She was older, with silvery hair and fine lines creasing her face which added, rather than took away, from her look.

"Uh, wha?" Vek's answer wasn't his most articulate.

"What seems to be the trouble, miss?" Vizif asked, coming to her padawan's rescue. She helped him stand on wobbly feet and head toward the comm unit.

"It's not working," the woman said. She smiled at Vek, then Vizif in turn.

Now that he had a task, Vek got over his fumbling. He pulled out his datapad, examined the comm unit. Absently, he heard the woman whisper to Vizif, "Is he all right?" His tongue clacked against the roof of his mouth. He was terrible with people.

At last, the datapad came back with the answer. "Master, there's something jamming the signal," he said. "It's a broadband transmission." He pushed another button, then stared down into her veil. "Master, I think it's an emergency signal."

They hurried up to the bridge. The captain was less than delighted to see two Jedi on his ship, but allowed them entry to the bridge anyway.

"Please scan for a ship in distress, or a lifepod," Vizif instructed him. After a few uneasy moments, their ladar screen beeped and began homing in on the weak signal.

In the cargo bay, after the lifepod had been brought aboard, Vek and Vizif opened its door. A startled, blinking woman of about thirty peered out. Red hair cascaded down around her shoulders and she wore a vest and trousers that had seen better days.

"Where am I?" she asked. When they told her, she tentatively exited the pod. "Them Sith ain't here?"

"What Sith?" Vizif asked.

"The Sith what stole my ship," she answered. "I'm Britmar Seclu and two Sith passengers stole my vessel." Britmar described the two and Vizif and Vek glanced at each other.

"Do you have any idea where they were headed?" Vek asked.

"They booked passage to Korriban," Britmar Seclu said. "But I got a tracker on my ship, the _Osprey_ , and that ain't where she ended up."

 _==She's not being totally honest with us,==_ Vizif said through their bond. _==But honest enough.==_ To Britmar, she said, "Will you help us find them?"

Now, Britmar smiled widely. It was a charming act, meant to weaken the defenses of anyone she turned it on. She was a scoundrel through and through. "I thought you'd never ask," she said. From her vest, she drew the tracker. When Vizif reached for it, Britmar pulled her hand away. "Uh-uh. I'm coming with you; I got payback in mind. And I need my ship back."

"Well, we're heading back to Dantooine first," Vizif said. "We must inform our superiors of what has transpired."

"No problem," Britmar Seclu said. She eyed Vek, turning that charming grin on him. "I'll take some time to get acquainted with you fine Jedi specimens."

"Stellar," Vek said. _==Are we really going back to Dantooine now, Master? We have her and the tracker.==_ He couldn't believe what he was suggesting. A little rest and relaxation on Dantooine should have been foremost in his mind.

 _==Yes, Padawan,==_ Vizif said. _==We will need assistance. It was the will of the Force that we find this scoundrel, but now we should bring help to face our enemies.==_ Her own grin spread across her lips. _==Besides, I'm interested to see how you handle this woman's advances.==_

 _==Wonderful; thanks a bunch, Master.==_

 _==The Sarcasm is strong with you, Padawan.==_ Vizif's grin grew more mischievous than ever.


	9. Chapter 9

9

The starship touched down on Dantooine. Vek, Vizif and Britmar Seclu departed, along with a few settlers. Workers hurried up the cargo bay ramp, gravsleds in tow to unload crates, speeders and farming equipment. A Czerka Corp representative strode from the tiny office they kept at the port, datapad in hand.

"Oh, hello, Masters Jedi," he said. "What brings you to Dantooine?"

"Just reporting back," Vek said. "And I'm no master."

The Czerka rep nodded, then his pad beeped and he had work to do.

"Nice place you got here," Britmar Seclu said as they walked the small enclave. "Lots of room to grow." She eyed the hills and plains as a huckster might eye a fresh mark.

Vek got the feeling she would have been interested in establishing a small base on Dantooine herself. Her intentions were cloudy, her thoughts always darting here and there. Like she had things to hide.

 _Well, who doesn't have something to hide,_ Vek thought. _I never thought she was an entrepreneur, she's probably a smuggler._

 _==My thoughts exactly, Padawan.==_ Vizif cast him a sidelong grin as they approached the lower level entrance. _==But, so long as she keeps her nose clean with us, we'll look the other way.==_

Vek nodded slightly at that. Glancing between them, Britmar's auburn locks swished around her shoulders. The way her forehead furrowed, she might have been trying to guess what was going on between the master/padawan team.

"I hear tell you Jedi can talk to each other without words," she said casually as they descended in the lift. The wink she gave Vek was sultry. "Care to comment?" she asked sweetly.

"No." Vizif squelched Britmar's attempt completely.

The scoundrel shrugged her shoulders, glanced once again at Vek before casting her gaze to the floor. As she ran her fingers through her hair, her eyes searched upward toward his.

 _==You can stop playing cute with her, Vek.==_ But his Master was trying to hide a smirk.

 _Dear Force, why?_ Vek asked, easing out some frustration through a sigh.

When they reached the lower level, the lift opened. Master Vandar was there. "I sensed you had returned," the diminutive master said, then regarded Britmar Seclu. "Though I hadn't known you would bring a friend."

The scoundrel pushed forward, accepting and shaking Vandar's hand. "Britmar Seclu, private businesswoman, Master Jedi," she said. "Them Sith stole my _kriffing_ ship."

"Interesting," Vandar said. "Come this way," he said to all three. Soon, they were in his quarters. He closed the door, then looked to Vizif for answers.

Vizif explained everything that had happened on Padomere, from Âtsadush to the women who'd surrounded him, to discovering Britmar Seclu in the escape pod.

"Ah, you met the Sisters," Vandar said. "I feared you might, though I'm glad they didn't harm you."

"Could they have?" Vek asked.

Vandar fixed his oval shaped eyes on the padawan, blandly stared into Vek's. "Yes," he said simply, then turned his attention to Seclu. "And what was your part in this, Miss Seclu?"

"That bald chick hired my ship to take her and her boyfriend to Korriban," Britmar said. "Then, they hijacked the _Osprey_ , and murdered my crew. I barely escaped in a lifepod, but I had to leave all my money. I got nothing."

 _==She's still leaving out something,==_ Vizif said to Vek through their bond.

A gleam in Britmar's eye drew everyone's attention. She held up the tracker. "But I keep an eye on my baby," she said. "This'll lead me right to the _Osprey_. You Jedi gonna help me get my ship back?"

"Of course," Vandar said. "Do you know either of your passenger's names?"

"The woman, she said her name was Kavia," Britmar said. "Don't know the other one, but they were hanging all over each other."

"'Hanging all over each other'; what exactly does that mean?" Vizif asked.

Rather than look at her, Britmar's eyes darted to Vek. "I'd be glad to show this here fella." She winked again and Vek rolled his eyes.

"I'm certain we get the picture," he said.

From his robe, Vandar pulled a small holo generator. A blue image of Darrdan Nal Craroc appeared. "Did he look like this?" the Master asked.

Britmar's eyes bulged. "That's him, all right," she said.

"It would seem as though Master Craroc has fallen to the Dark Side," Vizif said.

"Am I the only one who's surprised?" Vek asked.

"Hush, Padawan," Vizif said.

After he put the holoimage away, Vandar said, "I must inform the Council. You three should accompany me. Miss Seclu, are you willing to divulge the location of your ship to them?"

Britmar fingered the tracking device, looked around at the Jedi. "Will you give me your word that I can come with you, so I can help get my ship back?"

"Very well," Vandar said. "If that is your price, you will be granted your wish."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Britmar said, that sparkle returning to her eye.

"Do you have news, Master Vandar?" In blue holoimages, each of the Jedi Council members appeared. The four stood in the circular area in the above ground section of the enclave. Seats had been arranged around the outer portion of the circle, though they all stood in the center.

As Vandar recited what he knew, Vizif occasionally offering points the Master had forgotten, or missed, Vek studied the Council members. They all appeared skeptical of Craroc's fall to the Dark Side. Their emotions centered on Vek, making him feel like a bug in a science experiment.

At last, one of the Masters interrupted. "To think Master Craroc would fall is difficult," he said. "His distaste for Frags is well known. Could it be that one who stands before us now is responsible? If Darrdan is truly cavorting with Sith, perhaps he was driven there by one so brash and undisciplined."

Instantly, Vek felt rising fury. It didn't come from him, but through his bond. Vizif tensed and sucked in a tight breath. All the Masters, including Vandar, turned to regard her.

"How _dare_ you insult my padawan," she hissed. "Vek is just wonderful. We've made a fine team and his help has been invaluable throughout our mission. Master Craroc had it out for Vek from day one. I know; I was there, too.

"If we could determine what was in the box Master Craroc received, it might give us a clue as to why he's turned to the Dark Side. Don't presume to blame Vek for the failings of someone else. Vek is responsible for what _he_ does, not what someone else does."

 _==Thanks, Master,==_ Vek thought to her. In return, she sent him a warm, familial feeling.

"As it so happens, we have tracked the courier," Master Vandar said, trying to stave off any backlash from the Council for Vizif's outburst. "She should be arriving to this enclave at any time."

"Then, it seems you still have work to do," one of the Council members said calmly. "Contact us again when you have more information, Master Vandar." The images of the Council disappeared.

Vandar cleared his throat, looked uncomfortably from Vek, to Vizif to Britmar. "Where did you say the tracking device indicates, Miss Seclu?"

Britmar appeared more calm and collected than anyone there. Beneath the surface, however, her emotions churned as did Vek's. She'd been affected by the emotional tiff at the meeting as well. However, she collected herself quickly. "When there's a chance to go after my ship, I'll tell you," she said with a grin.

The sound of a ship landing stole the attention of everyone gathered. "That might be the courier now," Vandar said.

Out at the spaceport, he turned out to be right. The Czerka emblem stood out on the side of the vessel. It was large enough to have its own hyperdrive, but no bigger than it needed to be. Down the ramp walked a single Czerka employee, her orange and dark green uniform fitting tightly around her.

"You've sent for me personally, Master Jedi?" she asked. "I'm Olavia Zantar, courier for Czerka Corp."

"A couple of weeks ago, you delivered a box to Master Darrdan Nal Craroc," Vandar said. "Do you have any information on what was in it?"

Miss Zantar took out her datapad, scanned back to the date Vandar gave her. "This is highly irregular, you know," she said. "Personal packages are private."

"This is a matter of some import," Vizif said.

"Yeah, bastard stole my ship," Britmar put in hotly.

"I believe your superiors have asked that you cooperate with us," Vandar said. The Jedi had extensive pull.

"Yes, Master Jedi," Olavia Zantar said. "I just don't like to make it a habit." Her pad bleeped and she stared at it. "Ah, yes. Scans revealed it was pyramidal in shape and metallic, some-" she gasped at the readout. With effort, she steeled herself to continue. "Scans indicate the object to be over fifteen thousand years old."

"Did it emit energy?" Vandar asked and she nodded. "Lastly, who sent it to Master Craroc?"

"One Kavia, from Padomere," Zantar said.

"Well, that changes much," Vandar said.

He dismissed the courier and the four returned to his quarters. "I must speak with the Council again. This time, however, I would prefer to be alone. Miss Seclu, please tell me what you know. I give you my word you will be included in the strike team we will put together to confront Master Craroc."

Again, Britmar took out her tracking device. She stared at Vandar for a bit, perhaps trying to work out whether or not she trusted him. At last, she sighed, a very human response and not one Vek had expected.

"Metalorn," she said after another moment stretched. "My ship landed on Metalorn days ago and hasn't moved."

"Very well," Vandar said. "If you will excuse me."

In the refectory, Britmar loaded up a tray of food while Vizif and Vek found a secluded booth. "We've had quite the adventure so far," Vizif said, her eyes dancing.

"It would be a shame if we let other Jedi have all the fun from here on out." Vek couldn't believe the words which had come from his mouth. Then, he did a double take. Maybe he _did_ believe them. Didn't the Force come with a price tag? Wasn't it his responsibility to help fix things that went haywire? He'd been brought here for a purpose, after all. Things didn't just randomly occur, otherwise, how could the complexity of _everything_ even exist?

"So you're all right if I ask Master Vandar to include us in this strike team he's talking about?" Vizif sounded surprised at his words, too.

"I suppose I am, Master," Vek said. He'd gotten a second chance at life. Why not spend it on something important?

Britmar slid into the booth beside him. "What are you two jawing about?" she asked, taking a bite of something resembling broccoli.

"How good are you with that blaster?" Somehow, Vek felt responsible for the scoundrel, too. With luck, she would survive to get her ship back.

"Oh, I'm _good_ ," she said and winked.

"But what about with the _blaster_?" Vizif asked, her tongue placed firmly in her cheek.

With a bite of food in her mouth, Britmar snorted, turning the look on Vek again. She was pretty in a rugged sort of way. Of course, Vek had been taught that getting involved with anyone might lead him to the Dark Side. Of course, just because someone said something, didn't make them right. Still, he knew better than to get involved with a scoundrel.

 _==Let's just help her get her ship back, Master,==_ he said through the bond he and Vizif shared.

 _==I'm sure you could help her with... other things.==_ No, his Master wasn't going to make this easy.


	10. Chapter 10

10

Space was cold. Before coming to this galaxy, Vek had never imagined being able to travel in it. Now, it was more a curse than blessing. He shivered as he walked down the wide corridor toward the cafeteria.

The Republic frigate wasn't what you'd call a spacious ship, either. Under normal operating conditions, it contained a crew of less than fifty. It was cramped with a full crew. With the extra personnel aboard, it was downright crowded.

Vek hated crowds. They sent his anxiety off the chart.

Being in this wide corridor was a blessing, of sorts. "Is it the cold of space, Padawan?" Vizif asked as they walked, side by side.

Two men and a woman in Republic uniform pushed their way past him. The muscles in his neck tensed, spasmed and he sucked in a breath.

"Ah, the people," Vizif said quietly. Under normal circumstances, she might have slipped her arm into his, to provide a little comfort. Thankfully, she realized that wouldn't be a good thing at the moment.

The cafeteria was large enough for about twenty personnel. At the moment they walked in, there was a handful, maybe a couple more. Vek felt the tightness in his chest let go. A pinch returned when he spotted Britmar Seclu, sitting in a corner booth. She waved to them.

Normally, Vizif might have teased him. Sensing through their bond that he was still anxious on the crowded vessel, she refrained. _Maybe there is a God after all,_ he thought as he took a tray and got in line behind his master.

"I wish I could eat like that and still keep my girlish figure, Master," Vek said as she heaped all kinds of food onto her tray. Vizif often did this and yet remained svelte.

To his comment, she turned and said, "Don't forget to sit with your girlfriend." Since he felt better enough to poke fun, she knew he would be able to take it, too.

The one good thing Vek could say about being aboard a Republic ship was the meat. The Republic didn't have qualms about eating it. Indeed, they had entire agricultural worlds dedicated to raising herds of deliciousness. While Vizif's tray was loaded with vegetables, starchy and otherwise, his was weighed down with nerf burgers and tubers fried in animal fat.

"I'll have the healers stand by with the cardio stimulators," Vizif said as she glanced at his tray.

"Hey, I might die tomorrow at the hands of Master Craroc's minions," Vek said. "I should enjoy myself."

They were headed to Metalorn. Five Republic cruisers, complete with dozens of fighters, and half a dozen frigates made up the small strike team. Master Vandar was the senior ranking Jedi on the frigate with Vek and Vizif, second only to one Grand Master from Coruscant on the lead cruiser.

"Have a seat," Britmar said when they approached. She scooted over in her seat, patted it while eyeing Vek.

"Brother," Vek whispered as he sat. He knew she wasn't actually interested in him. Though a scoundrel and good at hiding her intentions from most beings, he sensed she was after her ship, nothing more and nothing less. If she cozied up to a Jedi, to her way of thinking, it was all the more likely she could use that relationship to better ensure she got what she wanted.

If she'd been interested in him as a person... Well, he might have felt differently. He'd always liked redheads.

"I been thinking about what'll happen when we get to Metalorn," she said, thumbing through a datapad. "I been there before." She laid the pad on the table, slid it between Vek and his master. "Reckon this is our goal."

The high resolution picture on the pad showed what might have been Dantooine. Grassy plains behind and a sod covered entrance in the foreground. "The _Osprey_ 's parked not far from this place," she added.

"You say you've been here before?" Vizif asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

"Yep. I, uh, traded with the workmen who were building the place," she said, quickly substituting the word 'traded' for what Vek suspected would have been 'smuggled'.

"What can you tell us about the inside?" Vizif asked.

"They didn't want me going in there." But then, the scoundrel grinned from ear to ear.

"My bet is you went anyway," Vek said, the infectious grin making him smirk, too.

"Not quite, but close, handsome," Britmar said. She pushed a button on her pad. The picture of the front of the facility turned into a blueprint of the inside.

"I should take this to Master Vandar," Vizif said. "With your permission, Miss Seclu."

"Knock yourself out, honey," Britmar said, then grasped Vek's arm. "I'll keep your padawan safe in the meantime."

Vizif's amusement nearly burst through the hull of the frigate and spaced them all.

 _==I'll get you for this, Master,==_ Vek said through their bond as she slipped from the booth.

"That Vandar fellow, he can thank me later," Britmar said, still clinging to Vek's arm. "You, however, can thank me in any way you like. Think creatively." The tip of her nose gently nuzzled the soft flesh just behind his ear, her hot breath fell a bit lower on his neck.

"Miss Seclu," Vek said, turning to regard her green eyes. "There's no need for this; Master Vandar promised you your ship for your aid. We Jedi keep our word."

"Who says I'm doing this for my ship?" she asked quietly. "As a smu- uh, trader, I live life in the fast lane, sweet thing. If I see something I want, I go get it. Who knows what'll happen tomorrow."

He opened his mouth to say something, but she quickly leaned forward, pressing her lips against his. They were soft and warm. Suddenly, Vek forgot about the coldness of space.

"Ahem."

Vek's eyes bulged and he tore away from Britmar's kiss. He stumbled from the booth, nearly tripping over his own big feet. When he stood, he said, "Master Vandar; I thought you were in your quarters. My Master was looking for you."

A ghost of a grin made Vandar's head appear lopsided. Quickly, his mouth turned into a frown and he made another noise at the back of his throat. "If I was in my quarters, I couldn't have discovered this breach of protocol, Padawan Talis."

"That cute young girl was bringing you my datapad, pops," Britmar said and Vek's eyes rolled into the back of his head, again.

"I'm sure it is important Miss Seclu." Vandar had the patience and tact of a stone statue. The experienced master turned back to Vek. "How is the crowded ship affecting you, Vek?"

"I've had more fun, Master Vandar," Vek answered truthfully. "Like when the Sith were trying to blast me to oblivion or when that apprentice tried to fillet me with his lightsaber."

At his words, a squad of Republic soldiers entered the cafeteria. The volume in the small room went off the charts as the groundpounders joked, prodded and poked one another. They grew quiet only for a moment as they passed Vandar respectfully, then burst into raucous behavior again.

Vek felt the walls closing in around him, all over again. The frigate he flew on carried an entire company of Republic soldiers. The cruisers in the strike team, most of a whole regiment. What they thought they would need so many soldiers for was anyone's guess. Of course, they were probably just being cautious.

"I should find Knight Krat," Vandar said. He cast a last look between Vek and Britmar, that whisper of a smirk returning to his lips. "Carry on, Padawan," he said.

 _I'll get them_ all _for this,_ Vek thought as he dropped heavily into the seat. _It's no wonder Frags fall to the Dark Side, with these madcap Jedi for masters._ In the next instant, Britmar had her hand in his, fingers interlacing with his, her warm palm pressed against his.

Quickly, he finished his meal, drank down a full glass of water. "Ah, look at that," he said, trying to slide out of the booth. "I should return to my quarters."

He dropped his tray into the recycler and nearly bumped into Britmar on the way out. "I'll tag along," she said.

"Stellar," he whispered.

"Training to be a Jedi must be hard," she said as they walked. "But I envy the power you have."

 _I'll bet she'd make a fine Sith,_ Vek thought. _She covets the Force for her own ends. Charming._

To her, he said, " A Jedi doesn't desire power for its own sake. A Jedi uses the gift of the Force to help others in need."

"That's wicked," Britmar said, smiling. "And you're just as needy as anyone else, so you can help yourself, too."

"A Jedi sacrifices for others," Vek said. "I have little desire to make personal gains. I have food, clothing and shelter; I need no more than that." _Maybe I can scare her away with asceticism,_ he thought.

"But if you had someone on the outside who cared about you, you could do things for _her_ , right?" Britmar lived in a world where altruism was helping someone along the way to getting exactly what _you_ wanted. Everything else was simple self interest. "I could do things for _you_ , you know." She winked.

" _For_ me, or _to_ me?" Vek asked and her smile got wider.

"Now you're talking _my_ language," she said and smacked his rear end.

His brow went skyward and he shook his head. Yes, she was charming in a gruff kind of way. But he'd already gotten a sense of what self interest was in her mind. She'd denied it, of course, but facts were facts.

Before he could say anything more, the diffused lighting in the corridor dimmed, turned yellow. A soft alarm rang through the halls. "All personnel to battle stations. Repeat: All personnel to battle stations."

"What's going on?" In a moment, Britmar's defenses went down and Vek discovered a frightened young woman where the gruff scoundrel had been a second before. Her fingers dug into his arm and she tensed, but quickly recovered.

"My guess is we've just come out of hyperspace," Vek said. "If this was a real emergency, we would see red, rather than yellow, lights."

She blew out some tension, barely noticeable and the smile behind her eyes was genuine, right before the mask slid down over her face again. "That's what I thought," she said and Britmar Seclu, pirate and smuggler, was back.

Of course, that, too, might have been a calculated 'vulnerability' designed to capture his affections and gain her the ally she sought. It was hard to tell with some people, what was really in their minds. Puzzles inside puzzles.

"There you are, Padawan," Vizif said as she hurried down a side corridor. "We should get to the bridge; there's trouble brewing outside."

The three hurried back the way Vek and Britmar had come. At the end of the main corridor was the door to the bridge. It opened automatically at their approach.

The bridge was small and cramped. Vek had to wrap himself in the Force and drown his anxiety in it. Warm fingers slid into both of his hands, Britmar to his right, Vizif to his left. If he'd been dreaming, he wouldn't have wanted to awaken.

"Republic vessels, you are not authorized in our space." The taciturn voice of a Metalorn naval officer echoed through the bridge. "What gives you the right to invade Metalorn; we have rejected Republic envoys in the past and shall continue to remain neutral."

"Metalorn Navy, stand down. Our orders have nothing to do with you." That message came from the lead cruiser, from the Grand Master and Council member along for the ride. Vek hadn't caught the female Togruta's name.

It didn't seem as though Metalorn's navy cared. Large, red laser bolts sliced through the emptiness of space. They crossed the bow of the lead cruiser, but didn't strike it. The cruisers and other frigates reversed course; a standoff ensued.

"We need to get down there; the longer we stay up here, the more time Craroc will have to prepare a welcome for us," Vek whispered to his master, who in turn whispered what he guessed was the same message to Master Vandar.

The diminutive, green fellow hopped up on one of the consoles and spoke in hushed tones to the captain of the vessel. When Vandar returned, he said, "I want you at the helm, Knight Krat. The captain is reluctant to disobey orders."

The officer who sat at the helm regarded Vizif for only a moment before vacating his chair. Vek hadn't known she was a good pilot – all of their training had been on land thus far. Like an expert, she flipped a few switches, grabbed the controls and took the ship into such a tight turn, Vek had to widen his stance or be thrown off, even with artificial gravity.

Britmar's hand tightened in his and she gazed up into his eyes. "This is what I live for," she said. Her right hand fell to the blaster that swung on her hip. "Soon, sweet thing, we'll get those slimeballs."

As they broke into the atmosphere, ground based laser cannons began firing. Vizif pulled the ship into another tight turn, weaving between the blasts. Vek felt his master drawing upon the Force. Soon, they flew over the north polar region, dodging lasers fired from the facility they approached.

"Republic soldiers, to your squads," the frigate captain said. "Drop point Alpha coming up."

"That is also our cue," Vandar said to Vek. Once passed the ground lasers, Vizif returned the helm to the Republic officer, joined her padawan. Vizif, Vek, Britmar, Vandar and a Twi'lek Master hurried toward the main ramp, lightsabers and blaster in hands.


	11. Chapter 11

11

Vek rolled for cover. Again. As a padawan, he hadn't been in enough live firefights to get good, especially at deflecting the blaster bolts of organic sentients. That didn't stop him from feeling guilty about it.

 _The big hero I am,_ he thought. A few Republic soldiers worked their way toward his own cover. They occasionally poked their heads up, fired a few rounds, and ran forward while comrades kept them covered. Their training was good, long and strenuous.

An isolated enemy soldier blasted away in front of Vek. Perhaps he didn't know the Jedi was sheltered so close by. Vandar, Vizif and the Twi'lek were taking a more direct route to the enemy enclave. Vizif had urged him to go at the Alpha drop point with the soldiers, telling him it would be 'mutually beneficial'. Britmar Seclu had jumped off at the same time. She blasted away at anything in front of her.

For the third time, Vek ignited his lightsaber, drew in the Force as best he could. The Unifying Force spoke more to him these days, unless he was healing, then the Living Force guided his thoughts better.

A few blaster bolts winged their way toward him. One singed him on its way past. The others, the more important ones, as they would have skewered more than his robes, bounced harmlessly away. The enemy soldier not far in front squeezed off rounds, again and again. He seemed transfixed on Vek.

That gave the Republic soldiers a chance to get him in a crossfire. He sprawled and groaned as he fell. Republic soldiers moved up. There weren't many more places to shelter before they had taken the grounds to the west of the enclave.

Most of the soldiers were either down or gone inside. Vek relaxed a bit, remained standing. Britmar stood, too. The _Osprey_ was parked on a landing pad not far to the left, or north of the enclave.

The door to the sod covered hideout had been left standing open. Vek could sense Vandar and the other Jedi to the east, still battling their way forward. The Force swirled, tugged at the collar of his robe, pulled him the direction of the open door.

"Wait, Miss Seclu," he said as Britmar holstered her weapon and began walking casually toward the landing pad.

"Wait like hell, sweet thing," she said, glaring at him. "Time to get my ship back and get off this rock. You been a great help."

Vek could almost see the muzzle of the blaster rifle stick out through the shadowed doorway. He couldn't, of course, but the Force made it apparent that it was there. _I'm gonna regret this,_ he thought as he rushed toward the scoundrel. Her eyes bulged and she reached for her blaster again, but he was too quick. He tackled her just as the blaster bolt scorched the air she'd occupied only a split second before. Republic soldiers surged forward, blaster rifles barking to take out the enemy at the door.

Britmar's intense gaze swung from the enclave door up to Vek. Her lower lip trembled for a second before she got it under control. At that moment, her charming smirk turned up one corner of her mouth.

"Thanks, sweet thing," she said and leaned up to peck him on the cheek.

Before he could move, she'd slithered out from beneath him, bounded to her feet. Not far away, the last enemy soldier grunted again. He writhed on the grass, clutching at his chest. The scoundrel made to draw her blaster.

"No," Vek said and hurried toward the soldier. The Living Force crackled at his fingertips as he examined the wounded soldier. "Peace," he said, using the Force to burrow past the enemy's defenses, sending the message as a calming, pain killing wave.

"Why are you wasting your time?" Britmar asked.

Inside, Vek frowned. The blaster bolts had burned up enough tissue near the heart to make healing difficult. At best, the man would have severe health problems for the remainder of his pain addled life.

 _Do I save him, or let him go?_ Sometimes, there were no easy answers in life. Oh, he could have reached out to his master, hung the decision on her. If he'd been a young padawan, he probably would have. Though he was new to the position and young in the standards of this new galaxy, he'd lived a full life where he came from. He wasn't about to pawn off a decision he wasn't willing to make himself.

He eased the soldier's agony as best he could, watching as his soul slipped from the damaged body. Unencumbered by battle armor and the philosophies he'd lived in life, his soul glittered and gleamed for the moment Vek could see it, through the Force. The soldier clutched Vek's hand, then his grip gave way and his hand dropped to the earth, even as his soul escaped upward.

When Vek stood, he sighed. It wasn't easy watching up close as someone died, even an enemy. That was why soldiers were sculpted into professionals.

Britmar gaped, then shuddered. Quickly, she bit down on her feelings, not allowing anyone a glimpse inside. She didn't immediately try to make a dash to her ship, either. "I could use someone by my side to help me get to the _Osprey_ ," she said, a glimmer in her eye.

"Then have patience, please," Vek said. "I need to ask my master about it." Something familiar and deadly drew his senses toward the landing pad. He didn't want to tell her, of course.

"Are you gonna need permission from your master for everything I have in mind for you?" Britmar stared, lopsided at him, amused grin on her face. Her auburn hair flowed from her shoulders in the warm breeze.

Thankfully, Vek didn't need to answer that question. Vandar, Vizif and the Twi'lek master still unnamed to Vek arrived from the east.

"Glad to see you're still in one piece, Padawan," Vizif said happily. She looked at the enemy soldier at his feet, then back up at him. He sent her a short message through their bond about what had just transpired and what he sensed near the landing pad.

"Master Vandar," Vizif said. "Do you mind if my padawan and I escort Miss Seclu to her ship?"

"That would be for the best, I think," Vandar said, then he turned his head deliberately to the enclave door. "I suspect Master Su'jaki and I will be able to handle what we find in there." He and the other Jedi exchanged glances, nodded at the same time. They used a push from the Force to dash inside. Their sabers hummed.

"Charmed to have two Jedi protectors watching over me," Britmar said as they hurried toward the landing pad. Her right hand rested on her blaster, all the same. Perhaps she didn't trust herself. It would be impossible to trust others that way.

Of course, once she saw the _Osprey_ , she whooped with glee and took off like a shot toward it. She pounded up the ramp, then her scream pierced the air. Then, silence.

"Âtsadush," Vizif said. Blue sparkled in the humid air. A moment later, yellow mingled and hummed along with it.

With a burst from the Force, both Jedi hurried up the ramp.

A crimson slash came out of nowhere. Vizif was much quicker than Vek; she blocked the hidden strike. Âtsadush – perhaps hidden using a Force technique? – appeared before them, snarling. He knocked Vizif's blade back, struck again, knocking Vizif back with the ferociousness of his attack. Next time he slashed, Vek's yellow met the red.

Taller and stronger through the chest, Vek didn't allow the apprentice to do the same to him. However, the skinny Sith didn't seem interested in repeating old mistakes. Rather than try to overpower Vek, he used his superior speed. Both Jedi locked blades with him, but he spun and used the cramped corridor to leap over them.

Vizif spun as well, turning his blade away from the base of Vek's spine. It would have been a nasty blow, had it connected.

At the edge of the Force, Vek felt Britmar's life draining away. She was crumpled to the side of the entrance ramp, bleeding profusely. Vek knew he couldn't heal her from a distance, but he tried to ease her pain, at least.

Unfortunately, in so doing, he left himself vulnerable. Âtsadush had speed and cunning on his side. He kicked at the back of Vek's right leg, then his left shoulder, spinning him around. The slash from his saber was partially deflected by Vizif, but it still tore into the first few layers of skin and damaged nerves.

Vek groaned as he hit the deck of the _Osprey_. His saber clattered away. Âtsadush tried to capitalize on his advantage, but Vizif contested him. In the tight atmosphere, Vek felt passion stir within his master. Though she clamped down on it quickly, she had genuine sisterly and matronly feelings toward him. Guilt replaced the passion as she battled the Sith; guilt that she'd allowed herself to feel something again.

Despite Âtsadush's best efforts, Vizif backed him away from the two wounded humans. They fought around a corner, then disappeared from sight.

Vek crawled toward Britmar. Agony tugged at his back with every exertion. Getting sliced by a lightsaber was no fun. When he reached the scoundrel, she was nearly gone. Unlike the enemy soldier, however, she could still be saved. Where he'd had too much extensive damage, hers was a bit more superficial. Blood loss was what nearly drained her life. That, for Vek, was an easy fix.

With his eyes closed, he could get a picture of the microscopic, through the Force. Blood was everywhere it wasn't supposed to be. Guiding it where it belonged, he urged the capillaries and sinews to replicate good cells, discarding the damaged ones. Clots formed, tissues began the mending process and he temporarily numbed the pain receptors in her brain.

Her head turned and she moaned, down deep in her belly. Emerald orbs, glistened with moisture, stared up blankly, then focused on him. Even that scoundrel's smirk looked more human on her for a moment, before another wave of pain contorted it.

"You just wanted to get your hands on me; admit it," she said in a groan.

The belly wound had left her vest and undershirt torn and scorched. His fingers lightly caressed the undamaged flesh near her bellybutton. "I'm just an old softie," he said.

She blinked, then relaxed. "I sure hope not," she whispered, trying to conserve her strength.

His chuckle cut off into a spasm of pain. "Don't make me laugh now," he said and tried to stand. The act wasn't complete, as it felt like the skin of his back was tearing.

"You're hurt, too," Britmar said, her voice distant, weak. That was her body healing itself. She barely had the strength to point at his back before her hand dropped limply to the deck.

"That's what I get for helping," Vek said. He was about to stop and try to get his hands around his back to heal himself, when he heard the humming of sabers. He called his blade to his hand, but nothing happened. Exhaustion made him feel heavy. His heart thudded in his chest.

Once again, he slipped off his boots, bent to scoop up his saber. He didn't finish that, either, as new sensations of agony tore through him. Vizif, his master, was in pain. He felt the scorch of a saber to Vizif's thigh like it was his own wound.

Not wasting anymore time, with the pain from his back disappearing in a rush of adrenaline, he shot forward, silently in socked feet. Through their bond, he homed right in on Vizif and Âtsadush.

The Sith moved slower, more arrogantly. His strikes were deliberate, designed to wear Vizif out, rather than inflict punishment. Victory seemed inevitable to him and it showed in his actions.

Of course, when Vek rammed his shoulder into the Sith's spine, all that changed. Vizif brought her blade up and skewered the raving Sith. Breath flew from his lungs in a feral roar and he collapsed, perhaps dead before his head hit the deck.

Panting, Vek looked at his master. Hair matted to her skull with sweat and a few scrapes and bruises and tears in her robes made her look like she'd just been in a fight. Which, of course, she had.

The cut to her thigh was bad. It had nicked the artery. "Sorry, Master," he said as he touched her upper leg.

"Don't apologize for helping, Padawan," Vizif said, breathing heavily herself after the fight of her life.

His fingers pressed against the flesh, encouraging the wound to begin closing. Through the Force, he sterilized it and started clots. "You'll need a medic to give you some stitches, soon," he said.

"Looks like you could use some healing, yourself," Vizif said.

"The pain's gone. Mostly."

"Come on; we should see if Vandar needs us," his master said. "You need your saber again, too."

"I know right where it is," Vek said.

When he scooped it up, Britmar was just getting to her feet. "You really should rest more," Vek said.

"I will," she promised. "But first..." Before the Jedi could get past her, she grabbed first Vizif, planted a wet kiss on his master's lips, then quickly did the same to him. "Thank you," she said quietly, her gaze falling to the durasteel deck. "I owe you. Both."

"Think nothing of it, Miss Seclu," Vizif said and shoved her padawan forward. Outside, she wiped her mouth on her sleeve. "That was unpleasant."

In the enclave, Vek knelt over several bodies. They'd been killed by lightsabers. While the outside had reminded him of Dantooine's Jedi enclave, the inside was different. Twists and turns led them to a training room. Metallic objects lined one wall. "Sith holocrons," Vizif said, sounding like a bad taste was in her mouth.

"Maybe." Vek was drawn to one. "I think this one is Jedi, Master," he said.

Despite herself, Vizif was also examining them. "This one appears to predate the Sith. Not the species, mind, but the philosophy."

"I understand, Master." Some were indeed Sith in origin, but more than half weren't. In the center of the wall, a shelf lay empty. Dust had settled around a holocron that was now missing. "I wonder if that was the one Craroc received in the mail," Vek said.

Vizif placed her hand in the space where the holocron had been. Quickly, she jerked it away, shook it as though it had been shocked. "I think maybe you're right," she said.

They continued to search the enclave. At last, they came upon Masters Vandar and Su'Jaki, standing over a bald, pale, female corpse dressed in red.

"That was Kavia, all right," Vek said, confirming through the Force what his eyes had already told him: she was definitely dead. The Sith didn't have a lightsaber in her hand and none was nearby.

"She nearly killed me with her hands," Master Su'Jaki said, shaking his head slowly. "I believe it was Teräs Käsi, though I've never seen the variant before. It was almost as if the Dark Side reinforced her actions through her movements."

Vandar had been quietly staring at Kavia's body. A shudder passed through him as he hung his saber hilt on his belt. "An ancient form, it was," he said, startled into the backward speak Vek knew his species used normally.

"Any sign of Craroc?" Vizif asked, perhaps trying to distract the masters from their malaise.

"No," Vandar said. He looked up from Kavia, returning to himself. "This enclave was only just forming; we arrived in good time."

Vizif told them about the holocrons. The masters nodded to themselves.

"Great work, Padawan," Vizif said as a Republic medic sewed stitches into her thigh.

Another medic patched up the flesh wound in his back. "You, too, Master," he said. "I suppose now we'll go back to Dantooine and be bored."

"Bored?"

"Now that you've shown me the high life, you think I'll be satisfied with trees, plains and meditation again?" Vek pondered his own words as he allowed them to sink into Vizif's head. Then, with brow raised, he added, "Yes, yes I will be satisfied."

Vizif chuckled, then winced as her movements threw off the medic and he jabbed her with the needle.


	12. Chapter 12

Thanks to everyone who read this.

If you're interested in a little more, check out my separate (but linked) story starring Britmar Seclu: s/13204223/1/Oh-My-Head

When I post the last part, you'll see how it directly concerns Learning to Fly. ;)

 **12**

The pirate ship _Osprey_ blasted off the landing pad. Darrdan watched it intently. Vizif and her padawan were on that ship. The Force painted the surrounding space blood red.

He surveyed the smoking ruins of his new enclave from a distance. When he decided no more Jedi prowled it, he went in to investigate.

"Master Craroc?"

"Yes, child," Darrdan said to the Youngling: his new apprentice.

"Why did those people blow up our home?" At seven, young Fyrda could have no idea of the hatred among older, more experienced life forms. Her innocence was honest and pure and ignorant.

"They think themselves good," Darrdan explained as they drew nearer to the enclave. Kavia had warned she'd had visions of the Jedi's arrival. He'd dismissed them, and now his love was dead.

Several Knights of Lettow lay, broken and bloody. The small contingent of soldiers they'd had from Metalorn's army were also dead or wounded. The enclave itself had been blown up from the inside.

Another body, pale and lifeless sang out to the former Jedi. "Oh, Kavia," he said as he touched her cold hand, a tear stinging his eye.

"They will pay, Kavia," he said. "That Frag will _suffer_." He cast a hate filled glance up toward the heavens. If not for Vek Talis's arrival, he would never have left the Jedi. Of course, he also would never have experienced Kavia's heated passion, but he wouldn't have lost it, either.

He focused all his attention and rage on the _Osprey_. That pirate had somehow survived, he realized. She'd helped them and would pay dearly. So would Vizif, for brashly deciding to take the Frag as her padawan when Darrdan was searching for the best way to expel Vek from Dantooine.

"Master? What will we do now?" The Force coursed through little Fyrda. It was uncertain, raw and grasping now. She was young and would learn control and patience. Darrdan would mold her into the perfect representative of the Force.

Inside his robe, the ancient holocron pushed warmth into his chest. It radiated a sense of peace, of understanding with the world around. Dark secrets to manipulate the Living Force through the martial movements of Teräs Käsi, long lost to the Jedi, remained within the holocron.

"Rebuild, Young One," Darrdan said. He turned to regard his pupil and smiled. "We will rebuild, so one day we may show them the error of their ways."

While he was away – while the Jedi were busy murdering his love – he'd stumbled across more Force sensitives. The government of Metalorn was also cooperating nicely. They saw benefits to having a Council of Lettow on their planet, to allowing Force sensitives to shelter and train there.

"Will you show me again, Master?" Fyrda was learning about their master/apprentice bond. She had an idea of the power Darrdan held in his palms: the Teräs Käsi he'd learned as a Jedi paled by comparison to what he knew of the art form now. The power he wielded was intense and Fyrda hadn't shied away from it.

"I will, Apprentice," Darrdan said and smiled again. He turned back to Kavia's body, gave it a last kiss on the forehead, then stood. "We have much work ahead of us, though, and we should begin."

"Yes, Master." Fyrda looked disappointed, though it was only a temporary setback.

"I must make certain the Jedi can't return here," Darrdan said. He still had friends in high places on Coruscant. They would, at last, begin to show their usefulness. "And then, I need to plan for the future." He set his hand on Fyrda's shoulder. "For _our_ future, my apprentice."

There were some Frags yet at the Jedi Temple. Through Teräs Käsi, Darrdan was learning it might be possible to steal the Force directly from another living being. At its death, of course. And who better deserving than a Frag?

"One specific Frag, naturally," Darrdan said, seeing Vizif and her padawan in his mind's eye.

"You're angry, Master." Rather than fear, Fyrda drank in her master's fury. She would make a fine apprentice. Only a week removed from her family home, she felt a part of Darrdan and mimicked his emotional states magnificently.

"I am, Young One," he said. "One day, you will learn how to harness that and all other emotions." _There is no emotion, there is peace._ He scoffed at the ignorance of the Jedi. The Sith were no better, stuck in their ridiculous dogma on the exact opposite pole from them.

"But first, we must rebuild here," Darrdan said absently. "We must discover others and make our numbers grow."

Then, they would create their own empire to rival the Old Republic and Sith. Only then could ultimate victory be achieved. _Rebuild._ The message hunted him through the Force. It was his calling. As was the destruction of all Frags. Darrdan smiled down at Fyrda again. The new beginning was now.


End file.
